The Whippoorwill Called Poem by Loke Kok yee

The whippoorwill called from a tree unseen
As the hills and vales changed its coat of green
The late waning moon made all shadows wait
While the forest cooled for a breeze to bait
Then life bestirred to claim the muggy night
With instinct wise; each to its own delight

The whippoorwill called as her hunt began
With insects in flight in her dining plan
Silently drifting, she sought out her prey
Without shadows made, as darkness held sway
Her ceaseless feeding, brought countless to grief
For prey on the wing; there was no relief

The whippoorwill called as she neared her chicks
Reassuringly, with her muffled clicks
The young yet unfledged; ravenously fed
Their hunger unappeased, for more they pled
She rested awhile, then took to the air
Ere the rising moon, tipped the scale more fair

The whippoorwill called to voice her dismay
As bats passing by, flew into the fray
The moon sitting high made her presence known
With her shadow seen, where'er light was thrown
The pickings now poor, as the morning neared
And quietness hung in the moonlight clear

The whippoorwill called through a misty screen
That blurred the forest to a ghostly scene
Her offspring well hidden under her wings
She waited for dawn and its offerings.
Then vapour rising with the morning sun
Unveiled the woods for a new day to run