Of a nightingale

Of all the time I could
pay a tribute to a fairy
and write a sonnet
drunk on bravery
There is a sky watcher
who rests at night and
may be
watch the sky of its lop-sided
smile skewed to love and all its
fancy to be
Nothing could rest momentary
I am awake and silent
as I could be,nothing murmurs
nor there is any memory

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