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Nyx 4d
My Second family
Thats how I think of you
You'll be forever dear to my heart
Even when the world seems blue

Its been a rough few years
With a lot of torment and lies
But we managed through it
All the lows and the highs

We don't see each other as often
As we once did in the past
though when we do
We try to make the moment last

Barely any words are spoken
On our brief interactions
Though we hug every time
To make up for the time missed
Even if its just a fraction

Tightly we hold on
Letting go but a moment to soon
But our lives counteract one another
We only see each other once in a blue moon

Though we have time to make
Our future is far ahead
We can rekindle our sparks
And try to help it mend

I still love you with all my heart
My dear old friend
And I miss you dearly
I hope we can make our amends

Because I miss when we would laugh
Over dumb stories and things
Talk about our crazy family tree
You would tell me of your flings

We would hang off each other
During casual conversations
We were once so close
Thinking of it now fills me with frustration

Though its neither of our faults
Or maybe both at the same time
that we left ourselves drift apart
Over this long period of time

But you have other people
You have higher priorities in your life
I can't keep asking to be
The same key person that you need

Because sometimes life gets in the way
whether we want it to or not
All we can do is try and work with it
While trying not to be caught

You keep strumming your guitar
and chasing after your dream girl
I'll still be around though
When the whole world beings to whirl

The trio of us three
Will forever remain in peace
The family of all of us
Has begun to cease

Though fight against it we might
With all the strength that we have
We are the only ones who can change this
Slowly this time we can try again
Otherwise we can just remiss

So to my dear friend
Let's do our best from here on out
I refuse to let our friendship die
Filled with endless doubt

Of the what if we tried a little more?
Or could we have changed the fates?
Was this the only way?
Could we have stayed mates?

Though whatever happens I'll love you
From your striking blue eyes
To your overly sensitive knees
One of my first french owl allies

It'll be there, your sock dropping self
A soft spot laid within my heart
And hopefully no matter the end
It won't end up tearing me apart

I miss you.
PJ Poesy Oct 7
Many owls hoot around this house.
It goes on at full length the night.
Broken record hoots on a treadmill,
stirring sheets, I'm up at one window,
then another. Dog ugh's his dismay,
not with the owls, with me.

I ugh back.

Certainly, I'd prefer somnolence
as well. So roll over Rover, this
infectious restlessness has gone
epidemic. Now coyotes are cackling.
The ever out there is in here, again.

I begin my jotting in the one thumbed
way of our present day. Thank a
saturation of stars for our modern
cellular contraptions. We can all now
fiddle away the night and not disturb
our precious pet's rest.

Timeliness of nature and creative
spiritual awakenings align.
Sometimes.
As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
The lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not let anyone to trespass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a lonely candle burns.













Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
As usual, I will not explain this poem. I think it is evident by now that I won't explain any of my poems to you. I want you to perceive it the way you want to. Happy reading!
In to the night,
As the breeze soothes the mind.
A lonely owl steps out to the light,
Leaving his nest behind.
As the moon shines
And the wind blows;
The nightingale hymns
And the gaslight glows.

Nocturnal creative artists at work.
The night only fuels their quirk.
Then a sudden cacophony disturbs the air.
A noise no one can bare.
From a distance it can be heard.
It whistles, but it is not a bird.

It slows as it reaches its destination.
Breaking through the peace with its whistle.
The train stops as it reaches the station.














Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
This is based on a true story. I was at a train station in a village, waiting for a train which was about 6 hours late. While waiting I could not help but notice the surroundings since it was a village, needless to say there were many interesting things to see. I have noted a few things here. I hope you like it.
Jack L Martin Aug 23
I say unto you with a sniveling snarl,

Will you go on and be friends with an owl?

Why, YES! I said boldly with a pompety grin

My new owl friend will be lucky and win!

He will hoot and toot a most beautiful song

He will win a singing contest and sing all day long

We will take all his winnings and spend it on mead

We'll sing, drink and be merry, indeed!

we'll capture a horse and dress it in tweed

then ride to the sunset on our horse named, "Sardine!"

Sardine might get hungry so we'll feed him some ****

We'll lay down to rest on a bed that's unkempt

We'll wake in the morning to see Sardine's fate

Sardine has died from starvation this date

The sorrow we feel is so hard to beat

So opon his flesh we started to eat

w'ell pair it with taters all mashed in a pan

we'll eat up our dinner as fast as we can

but hold on a second, how silly are we!

We tripped on some mushrooms we found on a tree!

our minds started swirling and twirling; so dizzy!

my owl friend shrieked and then started to tizzy

he gouged out my eyes and laughed at my pain

I fell to the ground and made peace with my name

for I never did say from whence I came

cause stories like this are not easy to tame

I lay here in misery, my friend's not to blame

It's all in my head, this silly word game
Shubhi Jul 31
So late at night,
When the all the birds sleep,
An owl awakes,
With bigs eyes,
Eyes picturing you,
Waiting for you to rise from slumber,
An owl awakes...

Flamingo you are,
What more I can say,
Beautiful more than anyone,
A charming bird,
Ready to fly in the open sky,
Play with clouds,
Rise high and high,
Just don't forget this owl,
With open eyes,
Eyes with you in them,
Awake so late at night...
rob kistner Jul 26
(I have always wanted to get lost in this moment I describe here!)
_

in this moonlit forest
midnight shimmers
through the misty boughs of old growth
as if star clusters dance the branches
above our high-mountain meadow
lake aglow like sterling satin

a crystalline wonderland
this night holds deep and quiet
save a great white owl
echoing through the frosted cedars

lover and beloved
we entwine
embraced in half-wake
semi-lucid
entranced by the spectacle
just outside our window

I hear myself whisper
how long have I been awake
is it morning
yet I do not want to know
I do not want to break this spell

but rather
to lie here in your arms
and fall again
into gentle slumber
to traverse with you
the time and space of dreams

_


rob kistner © 2010.
Imagined lover's reverie.
Yule Jul 2
“Why is it you always write about the night?”/ he asks as he sees her scribbling down her thoughts again late at one in the morning.

She turns to him, unfazed and gives him a smile meant for the sun to shine down on.

“Because I feel there’s more sense into them. The night and us have something in common— something only the two us get.”

He lets her words sink into him, now looking over her shoulder with wonder in his eyes. He touches her ink stained fingers, pulling it close to his chaste lips.

“I do feel it.” He nods wholeheartedly, letting his eyes flutter with the beating of his heart echo in each other’s mind. She do hope he feels hers, too.

This is what she meant. It’s the silence and wishes that surrounds them. It’s the serene feeling, the stillness between them, that’s meant to be under the stars and the moonlight casting over their skins.

She finds comfort in the stars as it reminds her of his bright lit eyes. As he feels safe under the moonlight every night; it’s her softness that draws him the same with the moon in the sky.

The moon and the stars will not bat an eye as they just continue to look after you.

It is the night that hears the most silent and powerful prayers from the heart.

And I do hope at some nights, no matter how far we are, he would be awake as I am not visited by sleep— he would think how somewhere out there, there’s someone wishing to be a moon to another like him. There’s also someone wishing to be closer with the stars.

— ironically, I wrote this at dawn.
I can see over my writing figure, longing for the night in her arms.

180603; 5:51 am

{nj.b}
taut wings
ready for flight.

a rat will die tonight.
Ormond Jun 17
.
In the long nothings of blackest night
Owl whispers.  Hair of mouse stands,
As only an under sieged without spear
Can and grave vole, simply wide open
On his mat of dead leaves, drying time
And even the hare, without hope, hops
Maddeningly caught in dark labyrinths
Without sight, dear is the silent scream
Of all that was mere, so slim after light,
Night scurry, dash, curled fingers, prey.
.
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