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Plovers for Nightingales

Plovers for Nightingales.
I hear them, behind the soft glow windows scene
Of girthing brick suburbs, encircling the green

You know, the lonely tappers singing
Along the lines of the lovers, listening

They hear its imploring screeching in the dark
As a pouring forth, a protective heart

The defining nocturne sound, in the southern night
The night song of the plover’s birthright

By day, deemed guilty by proximity,
They spear my sight, swooping desperately

(I can’t blame them for my bumbling creed,
Building where they dared to breed)

Did we exchange their midnight song,
For some collective memory?

Masked lapwing, mischievously mellifluous,
Proxy for that remnant of colonial piety,

Mourning for another’s tune, long gone
And written into the ballads of history

Your tripping iamb, lends itself to night unnerved
And I love its brittle scratching at the dark nonetheless

Even though the song is only played to the sleepers
And goes along its way unheard

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Last few words: 
Mixed - a work in progress.
Editing stage: 


It may be a work in progress but even now i like this a lot, i will pop in from time to time to see how it comes along. Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

but I don't think I've ever heard a nightingale :(
(or if I have, then I've forgotten)

It was my job when I was little, to sit on the tractor with dad (child health and safety experts would have a fit today, lol) and look out for Plover's nests... he would gently carry the eggs to another spot while he ploughed, then return them to where they had been. I always thought that the Plovers were beautiful birds

I've never seen a nightingale :(

Your poem is lovely - do plovers really swoop? - I don't remember them doing that - it was the Maggies that attacked if we went near the nests ... and lol during nest making season they used to chase hair ... my cousin's was blonde - they seemed to prefer hers....

Back to your poem...
lines such as '...the soft glow window scene / girthing brick suburbs encircling the green' - awesome descriptive

and, 'did we change their midnight song / for some collective memory ....mourning for another's tune, long gone / and written in the Ballads of history' - so emotive, without being overdone - it tugged my heartstrings, at least

One tiny thing - you have the question mark in the wrong place...

i thoroughly enjoyed this Chris. Thank you for sharing
love judy

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

I have heard the Nightingale sing just as the sun was going down we stopped by the roadside here in England many years ago and there in a small copse a sound so beautiful came out, if you put in Nightingales songs on your search there are a few recordings of their song there, not quite as good as hearing it in person out there in the evenings air but you will understand how beautiful it can be,
Yours as always Ian. xx

Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

I will fix that up! Thank you for spotting. In answer to your question, yes they do swoop! I begrudgingly went for a game of golf many years ago ('A long walk wasted' according to Twain was it? - and also, how about a golf course for a contrived, artificial environment which pushed out all the native species during its development) - anyway, back to the story - during the game, one of my balls went way off the fairway, and I was forced to go off and hunt for it. There were a pair of Plovers down in the gully where my ball went, and when I retrieved it, one of them swooped me, then did it again, and again - i must have been close to the nest - anyway, being Scots/Pom and quite naive, my friend yelled at me that they were "lethal" and had poisoned talons! I had to run all the way back to the golf cart, while being shooed by Plovers! I was truly shocked, an innocent abroad :) - Nightinggales, by the way, do sound beautiful (to me any way)and - thank you for your comments, Jude, hope you had a lovely day :) Listen:

Take care,


PS That was a lovely and thoughtful thing your father did - and I have still yet to reply to the comment on the other poem - there is a time-lag with the internet in Tasmania!

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

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