A Juxtaposition

On that day so long ago,

When the nightingale sang its tune,

The recorder was left on and it caught the sound,

As it sang in the light of the moon.

What a beautiful twinkling lullaby.

The little bird sang so well,

The nightingale overhead high up in the sky,

What a noise.  Who could tell?

A throbbing and humming,

Like a giant bee,

Came closer and closer,

But we couldn’t see.

Right over the tune of the Nightingale

Came the deafening roar of the plane.

The bird sang faster and louder,

As it came round again.

Brooke Simpson