PRINCESS NIGHTINGALE
(ODE TO A NURSE)

She dances with the swans of light

And captures there in magic rite

The soul and breath of living things

That cling to life on fragile wings.



Her song, a lilting summer breeze,

Echoes through enchanted trees

In search of all those lovely things

That such a pretty creature brings.



Must such a girl of heart and lace,

From heaven’s angels trace her grace

And from beneath her lovely veils

Produce the spell of Nightingales.



Her tears that well and gently fall,

Those most precious drops of all,

Mixed with strands of golden hair

And a breath that she might share



Cause healing of a spirit’s wound

While shines the aura of the moon

And there to cure my sullen ills

Far better then a doctor’s frills.



Just magic of her special kind

Can cause a broken heart to bind

Or truly mend the crack of dawn

By murmuring her swooning song.



That I might speak and ask of her

To use her smile to gently cure

Not just the needful soul of man

But all the sickness of the land.



God bless this girl for her kind acts

And the affection that it attracts

For as you see,

She’ll always be,

A beautiful Nightingale to me.

~ Robert E Browne ~

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