"By the by,"
Said Owl to Fly,
"I caught you in Spider's web;
I spared you for
I loved you so
Though my love would like to have fled."
"I thought,"
Fly replied,
"That you would ask
Not for my gratitude
Nor for respect-
For what am I?
But a lowly black speck to you."
"You may be small,"
Owl's lovesick call
Was nothing short of determined,
"But then how can I
Expect love for
I feast on rats and vermin!"
"So! Ah! We are accursed us
Both meant for solitude:
Me for my size
(Disregarding the eyes)
You for your choice in food!"
"Although,"
Owl stated
Not one to be bated,
"Perhaps we are not so fixed
In five years, or eight
We may curse our fate
And wonder how we never mixed."
"But, I!" Said Fly
"But what?" Owl replied
"I tell you,
I've not been so enamored
Of something not furry,
Not likely to scurry,
Since my last supper's end in a clamor."
"So shall we?"
"We shall."
And Fly settled on Owl
And the two built a life of compassion
'Tween Fly's buzzing vibrations
Owl found a vocation
To reverberate love into fashion.