A rose is seen fro' my window,
No shame in growing on a tree,
And I'm a nightingale, still singing:
'Oh, how I wish adjoining thee!'
A Persian beau with white-clad bottom,
Slim middle and five bright stars atop,
She is just lovely, neither rotten,
Nor living ad of sexy-shop.
I dimly reckon old long dawn
When death came here under sail.
She was a blessing of my own.
Her name is Florence Nightingale.
13-21.01.1988