Best Whippoorwill Poems


Premium Member The Lonesome Whippoorwill Cries Out To His Long Lost Love

In the darkness of the night, 
with the beautiful stars above.
There's a lonesome Whippoorwill. 
Calling out for his Dear love.

Crooning songs he sadly sings.
Wishing she comes back to him.

Memories of her by his side.
Pained his heart way deep inside.

Each night he wonders why?
She doesn't answer or replies!

Minutes turned into hours, 
there's no response! 
"Oh please Dear Love answer 
me, just once!" 

"Oh, where my Darling are you
tonight? I've been searching for
you day and night!"

His little heart can't take much
more! It is she who he adores.

Evenings drag on as he still
waits. Time will tell his coming
fate.

He called out one last time. 
His last thoughts were of her,
on his mind.

While he looked for her. He did 
not know. His precious love, 
another Whippoorwill stole. His
precious love, another Whippoorwill 
stole.

Sadly on that tragic day, from a
broken heart he passed away.. 
From a broken heart he passed
away.

There's a little nest that is tucked
away. Where his heartache ended, 
and now he lays. 

Later on his love returned. Saw
him laying still, and began to mourn!

Her cries were heard throughout 
the night and in her grieving heart
he now resides.

Each day and night she sang to him,
and hoped to God, He was listening.

In the darkness of the night, she  
breathed out one last sigh, and
forever closed her eyes.

She found herself on Angels wings,
and heard calls for her, singing.
She quickly flew to him in Love, to
start their new beginning.

If you listen closely and the night is still.
Up in the Heavens you can still hear, 
the loving calls, of two Whippoorwills.





Maria Williams and Husband Ron
will put these Lyrics to a Music
Video. I will ask her to Post it on 
Maria's Poetry Soup site where 
all her videos are. She is and Ron 
the one's who turn Lyrics into 
Magical musical amazing 
creations. You can see her new  
video on her Site or on YouTubes 
Poetic Rythms. Her latest Video 
Serenity, From Fall to Freedom, 
is an exceptional video I think 
you would all enjoy. I want to 
thank all my lovely friends
that commented, you are all 
Special and you make this world 
a better place. God bless you all...

Premium Member The Whippoorwill

In the dark of night the whippoorwill cries 
As it flitters beneath the night’s blue sky 

Master of camouflage. Heard, seldom seen
Is searching for woodland insects to glean 

Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!  The nightjar trills
As it glowers and swoops down for the kill 

Insects traversing the forest take heed
For the mottled bird has tremendous speed

It nests on the ground, it perches in trees
It’s gray-brown plumage the color of leaves

Up at dawn, at dusk, and on moonlit nights 
Brindled bird rests with the coming of light

Tiny bird with a magnanimous shrill 
Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! The nightjar trills

Still, For the Sake of a Whippoorwill

In the dappled hour between day and twilight,
                       surged the call of a Nightjar in flight,
                              a Whippoorwill sang at will,
                                      echoing his trill.
                                          I kept so
                                              still,
                                        and although
                                    quivering with chill,
                                waited for a female shrill
                        to answer him while I hid from sight
                in the dappled hour between day and twilight



Andaree - 11 Line Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Posted on July 13th, 2020
       Checked on sites: 
rhymezone and howmanysyllable
*My apologies to those who viewed and left comments before this poem mysteriously disappeared.


Sound of a Whippoorwill

Sound of a Whippoorwill

Dust dusk and dark always seems so still
Except for single sound from a whippoorwill
And bull frog beginning his croaking sound
Maybe you might even hear a hound dog.

Lightening bug's bright light began to flicker
Faster and faster and quicker and quicker
My eyes started settling in back of my head
So pretty soon surely will go to my bed.

Dark does relax as it enters the scene
And it has become quiet and also serene
After I have counted many more sheep
Eventually, finally found myself fast asleep.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Whippoorwill

The whippoorwill sings softly to me
From darkness of night, the bird I can’t see
Singing goodnight daily, from trees to sky
It has clearly made its home nearby

Peacefully it calls to me and rests my heart
I close my eyes to its song, until we part
The restful melody concludes my day
So, perfectly as I listen, I’ve nothing more to say

Heidi Sands

6/20/21

Premium Member The Song Cry of the Whippoorwill

The song of the Wippoorwill 
cries to the sky above.
Lonely was he, looking for his 
long lost love.

 Lovely sounds that resonate.
Wishing for his long lost mate.

Each night he wonders why?
His calls, unanswered with
no reply.

Oh where my love are you
tonight?
I'm calling, calling till morning
light.

His little heart cant take much 
more.
It is she, that he adores.

Evenings are long as he still 
waits.
Time well tell his coming fate.


In his search he did not know.
His Love, another, Whippoorrwill 
stole.


A Mockingbird and a Whippoorwill

A Mockingbird
Outside My Window Sill
Said "Come Play With Me
if You Will

The Day Is Free
The Day Is Fair
So Come Play With Me
if You Dare" ...

Its Tune Was Catchy
Its Song Was Sweet
It Wasn't The Usual
Tweet  - d -  Tweet

So I Ventured Out
To The Mockingbird
But It Was Wayward
To Its Words

Now It Sat Drinking
On The Curb
With A Whip-Poor-Will
Quite Unperturbed

It Didn't Mind
It Had Got Caught
It Jeered & Said
"Its Not My Fault!

You Took Too Long
In This Fine Weather
So I Found Me Another
Bird-of-A-Feather"

Then The Mockingbird
& The Whip-Poor-Will
Flew Wings Into 
A Nearby Field

But Mocker Kept Messaging
With Consummate Skill
So Now I Don't Trust
A Mockingbird's Trill

And Its Like Gregory Peck's
Movie I Saw & Heard ...
That I Now Want ...
'To Kill A Mockingbird'


         Written & Copyrighted © :  9/12/2013 
              by:  MoonBee Canady

Ode To the Whippoorwill

I remember in the evening's dusk,
The singing breeze in the drying husk;
Along woods edge, the whippoorwill's cry,
So alluring its call angels would sigh.
Yes, I remember the whippoorwill,
But do the angels remember still?
The call that echoed  the end of day
When man would put his labour away;
And meditate with the singing breeze 
And the whippoorwill amongst the trees.
I wonder if angels sigh of choice,
For never now do I hear its voice.

Premium Member Cry of the Whippoorwill

The mist seems to be covering the cool water this morning
Just like my grandmother's quilt lying across her feather bed
The sun is breaking dawn, on the horizon brightly shining
As I hear the last cry of a whippoorwill and wonder what it said

The nighttime creatures have found their place for sleeping
In their burrows and on highest branches, some now are perching
The daytime comes alive with the sounds of all of those
Who simply prefer life in sunshine I suppose

The faint light of the stars turns into sunrise golden hue
Then the sky above goes from darkness to pale blue
The mist disappears as though it had never been
Perhaps just being absorbed back to where last night it began

The trees gently wave as if to say hello to a new day
White clouds roll across the sky in an entertaining way
Making pictures as they go for all who take the time to see
What to make of each is up to you and me

Now the sun starts sinking as the breeze begins to still
I can see the moon peeking over the far distant hill
I once again hear the lonely cry of a single whippoorwill
The mist re-appears and with stars the night sky does fill

©Donna Jones

Premium Member Whippoorwill

Whippoorwill sings out
Its enchanting siren song
In the dead of night


Bird themed haiku Poetry Contest/Winner(8th Place)
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin 
Date written and posted: 07/25/2018

Whippoorwill

grass on the graves
the whippoorwill
far away

published The Heron’s Nest # 9: Sept 2003
© Rd Mcmanes  Create an image from this poem.

Dying Next To a Whippoorwill

As he lay waiting, Madeline sat to take his hand in hers

contrition caught hold, their eyes , a brief moment

to once strong hands gone feeble and disfigured

" I do not know when or where  it is, we'll catch up again, Madeline "

his listless voice hissed out of him like air from a balloon.

" Oh Jesus"   he uttered softly, as if he couldn't touch a prelude, fit enough for an angel. ."How can I thank you enough for three marvelous children?"

His look of compassion , both clouded and solemn, swelled with morose, for  lacking in verbosity to all the things, he will leave  unsaid,  to which he was grateful for.

" I love you Madeline, I'm so sorry. " his words choked back apologetically, his visage,

echoing a sad countenance that creased the bridge of his  wrinkled brow even more.

Though his time was running out of time now.

A soft feathered rain ushered to his window, a whippoorwill, to once again call out the forsaken dreams of the dying, to be carried on through generations to come.


Madeline watched, as his last dying breath fell from him and she took witness to  him leaving, from the many things in the room he had once touched. Perhaps the celestial  journey we must take, when the body can no longer be cared for.

 The  sweet mournful rain, a chaste white dove beneath a whippoorwill's call

Madeline leans forward with her palm to quiet the light in her man's eyes

that shout both his condemnation to all things undone

and all a king's castles burning.

Whippoorwill

There is no greater mystery to me than the whippoorwill
He stops at my home each April and September - never late -
On his way to North or South to who - knows - where and who - knows - why
But as regular as clockwork in his search to find a mate

I know he's there because of his nightly three syllable calls
A lonelier cry you will never hear - at least I would pray
For twenty years I have listened fascinated to this call
I have never seen the bird as he vanishes in  the day

But the mystery - I have never heard an answering call
Sometimes he cries all night long - silence is his only reward
Of course it could be he only stopped to say hello to me
What more fitting purpose than to cross paths with a lonely bard

Could this be the very same bird that visits each Spring and Fall
Unlikely that a single bird would live for twenty seasons
But then it wouldn't be a mystery without some puzzle
Poets and whippoorwills seem perfectly matched for some reasons

7-10-20
Contest: Bird
Sponsor: Constance La France

A Child and a Whippoorwill

"Twas the evening hour,
and the world was still.
All but a child
and a whippoorwill...

But I chanced to hear
as twilight smiled,
The song of a mother
to her child.

Tranquil and warm,
Sweet and deep,
Rocking, rocking
the child to sleep.

Singing , singing
of stars above,
Singing, singing
of love.

"Twas the dawning hour,
and the world was still.
All but a child,
and a whippoorwill...

Whippoorwill

Whippoorwill

Whippoorwill sings in the darkness of night,
Luring me deeper into the dense wood;
Upon hearing me, its body takes flight.

I continue forward, tinged with fright
If I could catch up I surely would.
Whippoorwill sings in the darkness of night.

Ahead I glimpse the bird, and though it is slight,
I forge ahead in my cloak and my hood.
Upon hearing me, its body takes flight. 

I’m almost upon it; the sky becomes light
The whippoorwill vanishes, as in daylight it should. 
Whippoorwill sings in the darkness of night. 

An Original Villanelle Contest: Poetry Contest
L. Milton Hanks
Poem Written 3/1/22

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace