They are deadly when they sing,
and what sorrow will they bring,
those wilfulwuls, within the night
when they have you in their sight.
Dashing through the ev’ning air,
you below them, unaware,
those wilfulwuls a hunting go,
spreading sorrow, spreading woe.
Waiting for an aching heart,
broken souls, alone, apart,
those wilfulwuls in chorus deep
promise comfort, promise sleep.
Tale Told 
Excellent!
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Why thank you.
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My pleasure. I hve been ill the last few months and have missed reading your work.
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Thank you, then, for spending the time on me. It is appreciated.
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😎
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