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michael-p-smithPoems
As the Nightingale sings... His sweet song of happiness Driven by bountiful liberation Relieved from timeless crappiness Fluttering, making a joyful noise Trials to deprive him of craftiness Surely fails at inflicting such harm He sings gleefully, free of nastiness. As the Nightingale sings... His wrenching song of fear Realizing his time can easily fall At any moment danger may appear Songs of melodic screechy whistles Alerting of predators lurking clear He's hurt, used to frequent viewing His kin die, for each he sheds a tear. As the Nightingale sings... His sensual song of passion Strong vocals of desired courtship Refusing to share his ration With many rivals upon his branch Alluring females with his attraction Mating rituals commencing in love His plumage thrives in new fashion. As the Nightingale sings... His saddened song of sorrow Wishing for better times to come Hoping to make it to the morrow Living below a abundant food chain With a short lifespan to borrow Singing til his last breath is breathed Eloped to heaven, a angel he follows. © Michael P. Smith
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Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
As The Nightingale Sings
As the Nightingale sings... His sweet song of happiness Driven by bountiful liberation Relieved from timeless crappiness Fluttering, making a joyful noise Trials to deprive him of craftiness Surely fails at inflicting such harm He sings gleefully, free of nastiness. As the Nightingale sings... His wrenching song of fear Realizing his time can easily fall At any moment danger may appear Songs of melodic screechy whistles Alerting of predators lurking clear He's hurt, used to frequent viewing His kin die, for each he sheds a tear. As the Nightingale sings... His sensual song of passion Strong vocals of desired courtship Refusing to share his ration With many rivals upon his branch Alluring females with his attraction Mating rituals commencing in love His plumage thrives in new fashion. As the Nightingale sings... His saddened song of sorrow Wishing for better times to come Hoping to make it to the morrow Living below a abundant food chain With a short lifespan to borrow Singing til his last breath is breathed Eloped to heaven, a angel he follows. © Michael P. Smith
michael-p-smith
Written by
michael-p-smith
American
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
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