Best Whippoorwills Poems


Premium Member Had I Known Love

Had I known love, flowers would have bloomed in Spring
I would have danced when hearing whippoorwills sing
But in my heart no seeds of love were sown
No one brought bouquets or called me his own
     I wear no wedding ring

I could not soar above clouds on love's wing
There were no strong arms to which I could cling
Into my breast, Cupid's arrow would have flown
Trails of my tears would not have been windblown
My lonely heart would not be aching and ailing
    Had I known love

I was never a Queen, seated beside her King
No seductive words pulled at my heart string
It beats like all others;  not made of stone
My laments would not be heard in pitiable drone
My eyes not glisten and my hands not wring
    Had I known love



5/22/17
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Summer's Interlude

Beneath a lovers’ moon, Summer breezes in.
In still-cool primrose evenings lingering from spring,
she whispers in my ear.
I hear. . .
honey bees near lilacs, whippoorwills in leafy trees,
and somewhere. . . 
A hoot owl in the night.

Beneath a beaming sun, Summer carries on
inhaling and exhaling sultry days.
On languid afternoons beyond a yellow flowered meadow, 
she finds me as I wade into a stream. 
Warmly, she breathes upon my cheek. 
I feel. . .
the squish of mud beneath my toes,
cool water all around me,
and tiny tadpoles flitting round my knees.

Beneath an autumn moon, Summer slips away
sigh. . .ing  into
still-hot waning days.
I smell her fragrance in the blooms of asters that I pluck;
I see her in a golden-glitter dusk and
I hear her in the cries 
of wild geese across the sky
calling out to me her last goodbye.

Premium Member "sacred Season"

A dream

To hear the whippoorwills' sad urgent  call
I was very glad when I was a lad
But now twilight nearing new season's fall
My Essence of truth my consciousness calls

My tears being not of my former years
For sake of humans I now turn my cares
As compassion of true identity
From sacred place calls from infinity
 
Within unlimited aspects' of me
A great white throne in the distance I see
Around sacred bend a familiar friend
Silhouette of me as my God I see

No more desirous of earth's vain glory
The mind's wilderness of exploratory
History recedes illusions of me
My ego thoughts I just had to be

Totality of Love I see as me
Enter into God's synchronicity
I now see my God as I now see me
As sacredness of the reality
 
As Sacredness calls a new season's fall
Recesses the former whippoorwills' call
As new life calls I now realize it all
New life is in the  Sacred Season's Fall

Mystified as I liquefied I cry
As in spirit of love quite high I fly
Above consequences life's  densities
As spiritual tears replace human fears

1-12-10


Premium Member A Willow Tree

Someday I'd like to wander free
like butterfly, like bumblebee,
perhaps to plant a willow tree
beside the silent solemn sea,

before these things exist no more,
from mountain top to shifting shore,
when, soon, bald eagles cease to soar
and build their aeries nevermore,

and fish forsake polluted streams
(where sulfur swims and typhoid teems
since no one really cares it seems)
to die inside our toxic dreams
while ice caps melt and winter steams,

and all the air surrounding reeks
as children choke, for no one speaks
of fracking wells or oily leaks
(Big Brother's silenced all critiques!),

and rancid rains acidify
so woods no longer multiply
(for God so wills, we can't deny,
which is, of course, our alibi).

And as the deepest ocean fills
with plastic bags, and garbage spills
upon the plains, across the hills
and turns to poison dust that kills
wild dingo dogs and daffodils
which sink in swamps’ forsaken swills,

the mocking bird makes light and trills
(midst waning wails of whippoorwills)
"Behold the surreal scene that chills
and greet the dread that death distills!
You've had your day with all the frills
that brought the flood and final ills
that can't be cured with bitter pills 
nor yet undone with further thrills
of profit gained that grinds and fills
dead desert sands with dollar bills."

              EPILOGUE

Though swaddled still in infancy,
we feel we’ve reached our primacy
(aloof, though preaching piously,
disdaining deeds of decency)
and have no need of augury.

But in the pit of prophecy
the crucial questions seem to be:

“Is doom Earth’s fate, our destiny
to twist in tides of agony
destroying nature’s progeny
with no return a certainty
assured by death’s finality?” 

and

        ”Should we plant a willow tree
to someday weep for you and me?”

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...

Affectionately Yours

(Septet)



Amorous
thoughts soar through the blue,
to touch a heart that is true;
velvet kisses, softly set upon
the lips of mine affection's
as whippoorwills sing
Perfection...


Premium Member My Coloring Book

We loaded up for a Sunday drive
The Ozark Mountains were alive
Wild dogwoods of pink and white
Every shade of green in sight
Blooming jonquils and daffodils
Woodpeckers, blue jays, and whippoorwills
Even though the painting was unfinished
Nature's bounty was being replenished

On switchback mountain roads
Past gray bluffs where eagles abode
A long slow roller coaster ride
With buzzards feeding alongside 
Headed to our favorite place
A canyon God's finger had traced
Where echos and memories yearn
Friendly fires cleanse and burn

The raccoons, the skunks and the deer
Cared less that we were here
A nervous lizard escorted us to the creek
Clear running ice water froze our feet
A white misty blanket of fog
Spread out for the picnicking frogs
The rocks played a gurgling tune
In the middle of Mother Nature's bedroom

Sitting under a cottonwood tree
It all comes back to me
Generations of family laughter
Roaring in the treetop rafters
I saw an old man with his two sons
In shadowed waters catching crawdads for fun
My children's voices heard in the wind
As they both were learning to swim

I started coming here at age five
We've camped here hundreds of times
Back then this water was deeper
Each year the stream grows weaker
But time's wind blows no weather vane
All around memories remain
I come here a lot to look
And color in my life's coloring book


  an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner

Beauty Calls

Beauty Calls



Soaring on the melody of a meadow lark
Bathing in a whippoorwills love sonnet
Slumbering to the soothing coo of doves
Under my nightlight made from the stars

Cool is the night, safe is my bed
In the hands of the old oak, I rest
All of the night sleeps in silence
A voice in itself that is loud

Dawn will lift her countenance
A peek, a look then a smile
Warming our day with a new hope
And a dewy kiss of revival

Ribbons of color inhabit our vision
Saplings begin to stretch in growth
Caretakers rise early to till and water
Blooms bare their full faces toward the sun

Sadly too many miss this miracle
Caught up in life’s daily grind
Take but a moment, watch a day birth
Know that it breaks anew just for you

free verse

Carole Cookie Arnold
02/10/2011

The Table's Set

Whispers filter out the scent of delusion
the whippoorwills wallow in a waning sun
and thoughts are on the run

The table's set with mix-matched cups and saucers
the best China's soaking in the sink
and I can no longer think

Blame it on blunders ripping at the seams
me not knowing how to sew
I see why you had to go

Closer I get to the daunting haunts 
footsteps roam the hall
waiting for your call

Kisses left along with the weekend
breaths sullenly get slower
better off for knowing her

Emptiness fills the coffers
drips from the coffee pot drop
will heartache ever stop

Pushed in past the chair headed for inequity
silenced amongst all the sorrow
on the sill still sits her flower

and in the dim light I see
her beautiful hues
shining through
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.

So Far Away From Day

The symphony has started
and the darkness does descend
the world succumbs to quietude
the day has reached its end

The nighttime woods are glittering
and offer up a show
a dazzling performance
by the fireflies, aglow

Along the breeze the crickets sound
that all is well tonight
as whippoorwills send out their songs
in blackness, out of sight

The nighttime sky is sparkling
and offers up a show
a dazzling performance
of a galaxy, aglow

And all is still within my soul
so far away from day
I rest my head so wearily
and dream my cares away

Premium Member The Color of Music

Baby birds cheeping in treetops high, mellow yellow,
Whippoorwills' song when even is nigh, red sunset glow,
Raucous crows in the hot noon sun, deep orange gold,
Humming bees in blazing wildflowers, dark green wold!

Seagulls' elegant glide over pounding surf, royal blue,
Crickets calling through a summer night, a black revue,
Loons hooting across transparent lake, twilight purple,
And cardinal chirps lonely songs, in pink crape myrtle!

Parrots squawk away the sunny hours, of forests green,
Nightingales sing forever and a day, white moonbeams,
Humming bird emblazons the peony bush, pretty pink,
Goldfinch trills on desert bush, as orange sun slinks!

Yearning For a Home Long Gone

Standing in the ankle high emerald green grass of my 
great-aunts property barefoot, hearing the creak of wood
on steel.
My daughter and husband are in the house napping, dreaming tenderly about sweet things. 

Creak, crick, creak, crick goes the wood crying against
the steel. The porch swing was in use, the steady motions
a lullaby of calmness that washes over me along with a
whippoorwills cry upon the gentle breeze. It's an enticing symphony begging for a jig and dance.

Watching the waist high golden wheat sway to and fro taking my mind to simpler times. I inhale deeply enjoying the intoxicating scent that has no name as I shut my eyes. 

The smells meeting my nose were of pinto beans and ham hocks simmering away on the stove. The scent of freshly baked cornbread resting on a wicker pot holder placed upon the table. The sizzle of pork chops frying, the bite of pickling spices and brine indicate to me dinner is almost ready.

Peals of muffled laughter and chatter let me know that 
the rest of the family is here. The sun has started its
descent to bring twilight o'er the land, o'er the crops and
various garden vegetables that have grown here for as long as I can remember. 

Crick, creak, crick, creak...

I opened my eyes hearing someone call my name. The yard vanishes, the smells dissipate, sirens pierce the silence of the room. My heart aches. For a place that is no longer.
For a familial experience like that again.

My heart aches for home. And as my husband and daughter are my home. I yearn for the home I had, wanting to show them that it can be.

Sunday suppers. Sitting around playing cards.

My heart aches for a legend long forgotten....
© Vee Sparda  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Like a Star Am I

LIKE A STAR AM I


Like a star am I!
Who only shimmers in velvet gem darkness, aye.

This~ my world of transcendental mystery.
And the only place, you will ever substantiate the 
mystical, me!

Sunshine's progeny, I am not.
Nor am I, cocoa butter's tot!

A silken moon for a gentle pillow,
Mating music of busy,plumaged whippoorwills.

The spinning, intoxicating,music of the universe.
Ah yes~~~that's when I can compose such vivid,
outstanding verse!


September 30, 2020
2pm PST

Backyard Pirates

Have you ever spent a night
outside in a tent?
chips and marshmallows
lanterns and pillows
Frolicking fun with good friends and
food mother sent

Backyard becomes a pirate's den
of thieves and foes
swords and swashbucklers
playfights and chucklers
Telling scary ghost tales of dungeons below

Night falls with thick darkness
a child's Brigadoon
loud whippoorwills hark
owls flap in the dark
Fears rise with the glow of
the smirking full moon

Time to tuck in, long night filled
with wonder and thrills
menacing shadows
thoughts of cruel gallows
Now eyes closing, in spite of
a fight with our wills
© Kim Shaw  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Where Whippoorwills Sleep

A scarlet sun singes the edge of Earth,
receding rays giving shadows their girth.
And a darkness descends over the ground,
swallowing any lingering light found.

Twilight summons shifting shadows to creep
through the undergrowth, where whippoorwills sleep.
And Dusk lashes them tightly together,
loosely leashed to an ebony tether.

Liquid shadows appear to ebb and flow
as Day shuts down and time begins to slow.
And night skies welcome the twinkling stars back;
glittering against a backdrop of black.

Silhouettes silently merge with the Night,
awaiting Dawn and the first rays of light.
And as Luna rises, shadows disperse,
exposing new horizons to traverse.

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