I sit and listen the nightingales calling, my heart leaping with every dawning.
My body a tingle with every falling, to sing in the dark of every porling.
In the dark of night awake, the dancing souls in the heavens bait,
And I feel alive in memories wake, to live and love another mate.

In the silence that falls a sunder, falling like a roar of thunder,
I listen to the others calling, like a birch tree sudden falling.
Calling me to join the dance, in a line of perfect prance,
In the silence dim, like a minstrels waking dawn,
I sit and listen to the nightingales calling,
Calling for the faithful souls a home.

Well that sucked, but for a first try, it ain't too bad. Not too bad at all. Oh well. I guess you could say that I ain't that good at poetry. And in truth, I stink.