A Nightingale sings...

The moon glistens off the waves as they gently crash against the rocks. The spray mixes into the air filling the air with a salty scent. The quiet noise of the crash drift up the pathway far above this rocky shore. An old cobbled road it stretches out along it shinning in the moonlight. On one side there is the everlasting seas filled with mystery and adventure, on the other a quite grove of trees against a backdrop of a bustling city. On this path two lovers walked. Their heads leaning against the others, their bodies wrapped in heavy coats as they press together. Their hands entwine and fingers touch. The cold night air bristles the furs of their coats, sending up the salty smell and the misty taste of the ocean over them. The moonlight pours down over them blocked only for a moment as they stop under the leafy boughs of a tree. Shaded under these leafy branches holding each other closely their mouths murmuring soundless word, their lips meet. And as they kiss, with the moon rolls off the surface of the water, it turns the little drops of spray that float into the air into little diamonds, the wind whistles through the branches, and from far above them a bird alights on the tree and clears it’s little throat. And a nightingale sings in Barkley Square.