Whip-Poor-Will

Its name derives, I have found, From its signature sound. There's something about The whip-poor-will. That little bird has skill! People listen For its call Watching, waiting—overall. And in the stillness of the dark, Comes its familiar song— Melodious and strong. Thus, nocturnal, It roams at night. At times, spontaneous in flight. Little. Brown, With white spots— Never is it seen a lot. The whip-poor-will! Men, women, children—all— Fondly savor its sweet call. Such memories, Known to soothe, Oft' remind them of their youth. So many tales Of the whip-poor-will, Yet, folk seem to love it still. Though time passes, Yet, grows the thrill Of our friend, the whip-poor-will.