Harbor of the Nightingale

DSC_0436

Purple mountains in the distance
rising pale above the hills
just before the sun goes setting
far beyond the rustic rills.

Eagles fly so high above them
blending with the twilight sky.
Do the mountains know my feelings,
when I laugh or when I cry?

When the morning rests in sunshine,
sparkling on the mountainside
and fog fingers from the mountain
wipe the eyes where tears have dried,

then I see the purple splendor
splashing on the mountain veil
and watch the mists of mystery
hide the baby nightingale.

© 2015 Freeda Baker Nichols

NaBloPoMo#29 Nightingale’s Cradle

cropped-july-2009-10511.jpgNightingale’s Cradle

Blue haze in the distance,
painted pale above the hills.
A golden ball of brightness
bounces off the rustic rills.

Eagles fly so high above them
blending with the twilight sky.
Do the mountains know my feelings
when I laugh or when I cry?                                                                                                                                                                                      DSC_0130

When the morning wakes with yawning
shadows on the mountainside,
and fog fingers move so gently
cleansing eyes where tears have dried,

then I see the purple splendor
hanging from a hidden veil,
and I gaze upon a cradle
rocking baby nightingale.

English: Nightingale nest in Acheron river Ελλ...

English: Nightingale nest in Acheron river Ελληνικά: Αηδονοφωλιά στόν Αχέροντα ποταμό (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

© 2013 Freeda Baker Nichols

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