Being owlish I look carefully at things,
I see them from my flying wings.
I hoot with laughter when I hear a joke.
I spy mice and voles at a stroke,
Will my owlish brain outwit you?
Never know what hit you?
I swoop down so soft and quiet
To consume my rodent diet….
My talons and beak are sharp
Winging down over hill and park.
A barn to rest in is all I ask.
A nest to build is my task.
My eggs and chicks they grow fast
Gobble up food, a tasty repast.
Then once they are grown the fledge
And out to the world they emerge.
So this old owl will towoo some more.
To hear the twit of my Amore.
I want to be in my bed
Sleeping, snoozing, snoring, napping.
Dozing, having 40 winks
Getting some shut eye
Sleeping under the duvet….
Warm, snuggled, wrapped in feather down
Hushed, soft, moonlit,
Hidden in the dark,
Eyes closed but seeing the stars.
Waves of colour.
Dreaming of galaxies and sun’s,
Nebulae encompassing infinity,
Then shrink down, back to the room,
And sleep.. …
Feathers, bold, blues new,
Trees and lamps, float above,
Mirror wings , fly out phantom birds.
Swoop over head, peck at the sky.
Field of blue, arching inwards,
Nearer than infinity, but far.
Find your reflection, on the wind,
Life eternal, changing, clouds scattered.