Author: Joyce Hemsley
The musical nightingale told me that you are thinking about me just as I am thinking of you... breezes thro' the trees whispered that sometime between sunset and sunrise, we will meet in Heaven's rendezvous. Ah - and the waning moon promised you would be there anon, holding me tenderly - singing our love song. I always believe the harvest moon also the gentle nocturnal breeze. And how could a nightingale ever lie? So tonight will be our night of nights with a million bright stars in the sky.