Sunday, 23 May 2010


Muted nightingale

With one clipped wing

She will never soar

She will never sing

Upon her leg, a silver ring

Beautiful Nightingale

Her silent splendour worshipped

She closes her eyes and projects her song

The only other way she knows how

From heart to heart

From spirit to spirit

In your mind you will see her fly

Swooping into your slumbering soul

Sweet Nightingale

Sings only in her dreams

Her mantra tender and clear

Injured wing crippling her freedom

With mended wing flies gracefully without fear

Brave Nightingale

Perhaps one day a miracle will shine

Her cage bars will shatter and part

She will sing for the first time

A song so sweet

and fly straight to your heart

For yours to keep


Brian Miller said...

wow. very nicely done. that was really good....

Katherine said...

How lovely Gillian..this was very good indeed. I loved it!

Mr. Stupid said...

Beautiful poem. Nicely done...:)

PattiKen said...

This is just beautiful, Gillian. Well done!

Kelley @ magnetoboldtoo said...

That was lovely.

I am going to pretend that was all about me and being hobbled. Cause I want to be a beautiful Nightingale.


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