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sunprincess May 2018
My favorite creatures of the night-
Sometimes after midnight
They fly around the neighborhood
and call out loudly "Who"
And then sometimes repeatedly,
they cry,  "Who, who, who"
Why must they always ask this question?
Bardo Apr 2018
To the soft strains of the sea
The booming of distant hill and
   mountain
The stars dance about, waltz in the
   night.

Where atop of a startled canopy of
   leaves
A moon like a big owl sits, ready to
   pounce
The sea rising steadily now

Inching its way up onto the shore
Giving added buoyancy to the sailing
   boats
Nestling in the jaw of the bay.
A nocturne at bedtime for restful sleep.
a lawyer's
batch in
a brief
if hiring
direly break
trepidation that
equality *****
when a
state of
confusion interrupts
rights to
a genuine
occupy of
love where
intent only
makes mark
in society
a note on hiring in land of oz
Ted Mar 2018
Content in Solitary,
Loftily in the night sky,
Passing over tranquil hollows,
With peering eyes of deep perception,
Wisely then perched in tall trees of safety,
The owl awaits the nights unfolding,
Inside it knows all of the worlds holdings,
For the owl has learned from this place,
Hearing nature speak it's truths,
It has listened to the brooks babbling,
The soils endless turning turmoil,
All the trees as they speak in their creaks,
Even hear the softly breathing deer,
And the bats as they flutter near,
Hear the field mice speak in squeaks,
The moans in the night wind,
Of the coming of new season,
The splatter of the late night rains,
The rustles of falling leaves,
as life escapes these trees,
The howl of the hungry lone wolf,
All this knowledge being spoken for those who listen,
The owl in it's perch does not let their teachings fall on deaf ears.
BC Jaime Mar 2018
He said
          “You’re a bear.”

I said
          “No, I’m a fish.
          Two fish, actually
          Swimming
          in opposite directions
          One tells me: Do it!
          The other says: Oh no
          you betta don’t!”


He said
          “No. You’re a bear.”

I said
          “No. Actually,
          I’m a monkey.
          A crazy, funny monkey
          who can pick up stuff
          with his toes
          then wonder when
          I’ll evolve
          (Even my pops used to call
          me his 'little monkey'.)”


He said
          “Just face it.
          YOU.
          ARE.
          A.
          BEAR.”


I said
          “I beg to differ,
          I am a night owl
          that stares at stars
          or watches Friends
          reruns in the wee hours
          of the morning.
          Ask me a question
          I’ll show you how
          wise I am.”


He said
          “Do you know that
          you are a bear?”


I said
          “Nope. I’m a snake.
          I have tremendous
          sympathy for others,
         great depth of perception
          Am intense, passionate,
          determined,
          at times, headstrong.”


He said
          “But, you are also a bear.
          A hairy bear.”


I said
          “Fine. I’m a bear.
          Are you happy?
          I’m grumpy, lumbering
          & hate bees.
          I’m hairy,
          I hibernate.
          I.
          Am.
          A. Bear.”
  

(after a taste
          of honey)

I said
          “And what are you
          Hmmm…?”


He said
          “I’m an otter.
          hairy & cute
          just like you
          Now, give me your paw
          Let’s go splash
          around in the river.”

© BC Jaime 2014 || IG: @B.C.Jaime

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.
BC Jaime Mar 2018
howling coyote
great owl's moonlit serenade--
moaning of the train
© BC Jaime 2018 || IG: @B.C.Jaime

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.
tye wilt Feb 2018
That cold, harsh,
February rain slashes against
the panes of glass in my bedside window.

The sycamore tree in the front yard
with it's thick lashes,
groaning,
rattling,
has chased away the coo of the owl.

I've grown used to it's lullaby
and, as I drift off,
I worry a tired thought:
will he come back?
I am the night owl
flapping its wings
stealthily through your dreams
with a soft  feathery touch
    you may remember
       you once imagined
like the figure at the end
    of the corridor
    whose face always remains
    in the shadow

I am the sower of images
   growing from the dark
touching your mind gently
tapping at forbidden doors
   closed to the brighter hours

I am the prowler of twilight thoughts
that lend shapes
     to your hopes
     and fears and desires
living their lives
     in between

I am the night owl
that shudders
    and folds its wings quietly
when the sun rises
    always too soon
patiently waiting again
until the day is done

* *
Star BG Jan 2018
I borrowed an owls eyes
What did I see?
A vast beautiful countryside
ready for me to dance my way through.
A moon that gracefully chatted with stars
A wind that echoed in song.
A mountain tall and regal to salute.
And a person grateful
for Mother Natures ally.
The sacred Owl.
Inspired by Nagi Thank you for sharing your talents.
All who read you are blessed.
LexiSully Jan 2018
Perched quietly in the shadows of the night,
Observing completely, using all her might,
Untouched the landscape sat; she breathed a sigh,
She leapt and began to fly

She soared through the trees, dark and murky,
Weaving in and out, the ride a little jerky,
Until she reached the clearing, blooming and sprouting,
Where she landed and began scouting

She spotted a baby, small and alone,
Hungry and confused, wanting to be shown,
Flying over to the area in which it sat,
She pulled some wisdom from her hat

Unmoving and silent, she sat as an example,
Showing her apprentice just a little sample,
Teaching patience and perseverance was first on the list,
She didn’t quit until it got the gist

Next thing she knew, her student was growing,
In no time, it was the one doing all the showing,
She took a step back, gazing proudly at her work,
While the child continued doing all the groundwork

Rays peaked out across the horizon in all hues,
Most of which consisted of reds and blues,
She looked at the child, beckoning it to fly on home,
Although she longed to stay and roam

As the sun rose, slow and bright,
She decided to turn and take off in flight,
Twisting and turning through trees and brush,
She flew on quickly, as if in a rush

She spotted it then, modest and small,
The place she longed to go most of all,
Adventures are fun and she liked to roam,
But there’s definitely no place quite like home.
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