P is for Poem
I built my house beside the wood
So I could hear you singing
And it was sweet and it was good
And love was all beginning
Fare thee well my nightingale
'Twas long ago I found you
Now all your songs of beauty fail
The forest closes 'round you
The sun goes down behind a veil
'Tis now that you would call me
So rest in peace my nightingale
Beneath your branch of holly
Fare the well my nightingale
I lived but to be near you
Though you are singing somewhere still
I can no longer hear you
Leonard Cohen
Book of Longing
Happy Birthday (Wednesday) Aunt Joan
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