The Nightingale
A happy nightingale singing with glee.
Fluttering from tree to tree.
It's singing a lovely melody.
To hear it sing and chirp is a theraphy,
After day's hardwork under the summer sun
I look out the window, with the moon shining through,
The nightingale away it flew.
Whistle three notes, I tried to
I mimick its sound, hoping it would come around.
But my whistling was out of tune.
I felt sad to see it go.
Maybe some night, it may come back,
Hopefully tomorrow to be true.
