Guess Hoot
The same old path I took each day;
No encounters were received.
Just a plain old trek; the same old way;
So monotonous I believed.
Sure, the gardens, they were lovely;
So many different trees;
Roots poured on further daily;
Their beauty greatly pleased.
Still the walk, it got so old;
One morning it all changed.
I passed beneath a giant oak;
Where sat a feathered Sage.
“Hello Sir,” I greeted, “You’re a handsome owl”; but, he just cried,
“hoot, hooty”; as I stood there in the breeze.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment