The Nightingale
By Marian Jones ©
A nightingale was singing
In the stillness of the night;
It sang of love and beauty,
Beneath the pale moonlight.
I lay there quietly listening
Overwhelmed with memories,
As the nightingale's sweet song
Echoed through the trees.
It seemed to sing of lost love
Of grief that's hard to bear,
And my soul was gently weeping
For a love no longer there.
My darling how I miss you;
I yearn for you each night,
When the nightingale is singing
Beneath the pale moonlight.
Nightingale males sing at night to advertise their territory (home) to females who are flying overhead at night while on migration. Once they secured a mate, they mostly fall silent at night but go on singing in daytime into June.
By Marian Jones ©
A nightingale was singing
In the stillness of the night;
It sang of love and beauty,
Beneath the pale moonlight.
I lay there quietly listening
Overwhelmed with memories,
As the nightingale's sweet song
Echoed through the trees.
It seemed to sing of lost love
Of grief that's hard to bear,
And my soul was gently weeping
For a love no longer there.
My darling how I miss you;
I yearn for you each night,
When the nightingale is singing
Beneath the pale moonlight.
Nightingale males sing at night to advertise their territory (home) to females who are flying overhead at night while on migration. Once they secured a mate, they mostly fall silent at night but go on singing in daytime into June.
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