Long Whippoorwill Poems
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I was a successful, fashionable florist, in mild green days of elegant gardens,
When an orange sun beamed its pleasure, like locales where lavender begins.
I formed arrangements for many occasions, drawing beauty lovers from afar,
As pretty planets arrange for a meeting, after wild rumors of the newest star.
And crowded hours were filled with summer, like pearly dews crowd morning,
Until ruby butterflies are playing tag, and gemmed damselflies are swarming.
Friends felt I might always be found, in some area of flush bloom fragrancies,
Like raven midnight's march to daybreak, with its warm, varicolored agencies.
Fond family held festive feasts, in fading hours of sparkly, fuchsia sun falling,
As whippoorwill songs clashed with red robin's, midst magenta stars gawking.
I lived in the house of tangy, saturated noon, when flowers were in full glory,
Like the most beautiful day of a woman's life, when a bride she's come to be.
Scarlet, saffron and other hues glittered, within the soulful sector of summer,
As starlings sang songs along my street, and sun rose and retired, a stunner!
Neighbors were nomadized at times, as honeydew moon nestles in new night,
When visiting me on eves of silk and satin, when fresh June was at its height.
Silver clouds were saddled with summer sun, in suddenly days of sweet rose,
Like grey encumbering smoke from autumn fires, when in plum mists it flows.
Raven noon was in green treetops, as the inarticulate ravens were squawking,
And fading time seemed to stand still, but ephemeral moments kept walking.
One day I woke to a gorgeous view from my window, daisies pink and yellow,
In the wide field right next to my house, glowing in the rich, sunshine mellow!
It put such a smile on my face, oh my! Like flocks of pretty blue jays going by,
And I kept seeing daisies everywhere I went, like a pearlescent moon on high!
I beheld African daisies and shasta, and pom pom-like chrysanthemum ones;
Along with fine lustrous gerberas, in all colors found, in wild green kingdoms.
I wondered at my strange, good fortune, in seeing beloved blooms anywhere;
Like the young, butterscotch days when Mother said, 'We're going to the fair!'
For awhile, I saw sweet daisies by day, and it seems I dreamt daisies at night;
Like a brief mystic spell of rapture, when hidden beauty's freed from its plight.
Purple hues beam softly through edge of night
casting shadows between mystical light
forests spy slivers of moonbeams below
dreaming of rainbows as night owls hoot low.
Violet mists rise past low setting sun
hovering over the long river run
darkness now beckons young bats to take flight
stirring and whirring over edge of night.
Chorus of crickets crescendo so high
coyotes howl under new starlit skies
wailing beneath an iridescent moon
while whippoorwill croons a sad, forlorn tune.
Purple magic’s captivating delights
hidden wonders between the edge of night.
Written on 1/16/2019
In Tune With Nature
Amidst flowers, butterflies and bees,
enjoy sitting under the trees
The breeze blows gently whistling all the way,
leaves shiver softly in tune
with birds in the background
Listen intently to the music of nature,
lush sounds in sweet cadence,
baring its all in such magnificent stature
of soulful providence
sunbeams dance with joy
silent willowwacks gleam bright ~
whippoorwill trills loud
09.16.2020
For Constance La France's "Writing challenge, nature - four in one" contest
Re-entered for Constance La France's "N poems, new or old contest"
I was sorting through some old photographs
somewhat faded, tattered-torn
from years of wear and tear I guess;
some baby pictures from when I was born.
My mother holding me so close
and warm in her sweet hands
while my daddy stood right beside her
a proud and gentle man.
Though it was black and white with so little light
to brighten up the room
there was no doubt the truth was out
we were a family in full bloom.
Refrain:
Where have you gone now Robert Walker,
you were the man who gave me life.
Why did you up and fly away into the stars one night?
Where have you gone now Robert Walker,
you know I miss you every day?
Let me thank you for all the love and more
of everything you gave.
Another photograph I gently grasped a priceless memory
of later years when it was clear
you were the hero of our family.
Six kids and you and mom there too
all smiles into the lens, you’d set up on a camera stand
and self timed us once again. Capturing a moment
that you knew would carry on
a piece of film that found its way somehow into this song.
Refrain:
Where have you gone now Robert Walker,
you were the man who gave me life.
Why did you up and fly away into the stars one night?
Where have you gone now Robert Walker,
you know I miss you every day?
Let me thank you for all the love and more
of everything you gave.
There’ve been so many times I wished I could find you
back in our home town;
maybe in the old back yard where I used to run around.
While you grilled hot dogs and we heard the call
of the evening whippoorwill,
those memories are so real to me
I feel you standing right here still.
Looking down upon me like you once did long ago,
dad if you can hear me now
you were the finest man I know.
Refrain:
Where have you gone now Robert Walker,
you were the man who gave me life.
Why did you up and fly away up to the stars one night?
Where have you gone now Robert Walker,
you know I miss you every day?
Let me thank you for all the love and more
of everything you gave.
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...
I am thankful for ~
treasured memories of every loved one I've ever known
and for each act of kindness to me a stranger has shown
I appreciate my senses; never treating them as mundane
for sunlight's gift of warmth and nature's nurturing rain
I appreciate wondrous things I've been given sight to see
and that I'm able to feel a gentle breeze stirring over me
I'm grateful I can hear the lilting song of a whippoorwill
and for tears I've shed when happiness caused them spill
I'm indebted to those who forgave me for all my mistakes
and for laughing like a child while trying to catch snowflakes
For friends who tell me cold hard truths when I need telling
and for faith in God through scripture that I find compelling
No need for a special day
To remind us of our love
Always in our consciousness
A treasure from up above
Just like welcome sunshine
Right after a summer rain
Rainbows of pretty colours
A gentle sweet refrain
A lullaby to soothe us
When skies above turn dark
Gentleness of falling snow
A sweet serenade in the park
Two souls adrift at twilight
Wistful of days of yore
Shadows in the moonlight
Starlight on the shore
The tender kiss of morning
Sunshine o'er the hills
The song of the morning dove
The call of the whippoorwill
Love is really all these things
Surrounding us in every way
Open your heart and let it in
No need for a special day!
© Jack Ellison 2014
The earth moans the earth and blood is soaked into dirt, the beatitude stands still and the mountain goat is grazing patiently on the hill. The birds are conducting Sunday morning mass and the leaders are prostrating on the grass; woeful tears are streaming down their faces and sins of their youth are scattered in open ditches, running streams, sidewalks and fortified manholes. Bullets wriggling in their flesh and some of them lay face down gasping for breath.
The whippoorwill is flying about and cannery is flying with a knife stuck in its throat. The sun is barely peeping out and the new is flying around the town. Some too busy to listen to it and other are too scared to absorb it. Everything came to a standstill and the news is already waving in the sky. Anxious eyes scrambling for answer and their body temperature are getting hotter. I mute my lips and take a gigantic leap over the three hundred- and fifty-kilometers precipice , clouds beneath clouds, create a waving movement in the sky and clouds underneath clouds spreading inside out. Hundreds of bodies lie still at the altar, swimming in their own pool while the morning scampers along with the machine gun trembling in their hands; they are getting ready for another Sunday mass
The Priests are purifying the grounds and they are spilling the incense all around; a strange sensation burst through the atmosphere and mourners are lining the streets watching destiny as it completes its final round. The old flag is lowered and the new flag is raised to the tower.
Pine cone appears in the middle of the earth and covers the earth’s surface in an oblique manner. They roll from the top of the hill pitching a big tenth in the middle of nowhere, silver, brown and grey they all had something unique to say. It’s regeneration, its human enlightenment it is the rebirth of the life that I have never lived, it’s my childhood yearning my adolescence longing and my adult new life, I have always dream of someone like you but can you really make my adult dream come through, and what about all the people around you I will carve the message on the pumpkin skin and sign it with a daffodils. The lantern is lit, the fireplaces is warm so meet my for coffee or tea before the break of dawn and take the silver pine cone with you.
Sang like a whippoorwill, up high on a hill
Played trumpet like Satchmo, with panache and skill
To watch that man tap-dance, gave even Gregory Hines a thrill
As Ella Fitzgerald told us, 'Sammy's pure talent' distilled
November 07, 2019
Your Favorite Artist Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
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Notes:
1. See 'The Birth of the Blues,' (movie) c. 1955, b & w,
to view Sammy's exceptional singing, trumpet
playing, and tap-dancing ability. (4:39 clip)
2 See 'Tap,' (movie clip) 1981, to view Gregory Hines,
a remarkable tapper himself, in awe of Sammy's
(and his friends') tap-dancing.
3 See clip of 'Ed Sullivan Show,' 1964, (3 minutes,
27 seconds) to see Ella introduce Sammy as 'pure
talent,' and then to view their incredible jazz singing.
into your soul it burrows deep
into your mind when you're asleep
into your thoughts for you to keep
it will become a part of you
and when the evening settles still
and Time is but a whippoorwill
then suddenly you'll feel the chill
it will become a part of you
try, you may, to end your plight
to swallow it with just one bite
it gurgles in your stomach tight
it will become a part of you
though you've prayed the fervent prayer
to juggle Life into the air
leaving no one, not one in despair
it will become a part of you
in youth, we can not see The End
in middle age, we will pretend
and, at the closing, we will defend
that Death, became a part of you
C2023 Thomas Lee Rhymes - January 12, 2023