My nightingale you are my elusive dream
for it is i that slips deep inside of a place called sleep so i can go in search of you
i know where you are or i just sort of think i d
i am inside of here now for i hear your melodic voice just over there inside that tangle of shrubs
for it is inside of there that you flee all attempts of me seeing you
but i stay here
hidden inside of all restless dreams awaiting you
but i know it is in vain for you are all but invisible to these eyes of mine
that are now laden with tears of a life time given to me by the ravages of time
inside of a place called sleep.
© 2018, jo forstrom. All rights reserved.