Best Owlets Poems
I hunt my prey, late dusk or night
With wings so quiet in my flight
It's hard to see me up in trees
Since I am camouflaged with ease
My ears are placed in such a way
I hear most sounds from far away
My beak is hooked- made sharp to tear
But feathers cover it like hair
My eyes are large on my flat face
They do not move, stay firm in place
To see, I turn my head with ease
Two hundred seventy degrees
I hoot, hiss, scream, and most times, screech
To find a mate within my reach
Or let my competition know
This is my space, and they must go
In trees, await the choicest prey
Small mammals, birds, that come my way
Some days, on insects, I may dine
A fish from a small pond is fine
My talons are like raptor claws
When prey appears, without a pause
I quickly fly from tree to ground
And clench the bird or mouse I've found
My prey I often swallow whole
Complete digestion is my goal
Whatever I cannot digest
Comes up as pellets I express
And something you may think is cruel
When raising owlets, it's the rule
To feed the best and largest first
And so the weakest ones are cursed
A cannibal I can be too
Eat smaller owls that I pursue
I never feel the slightest guilt;
This is the way that I was built
Of owls, there are two hundred kinds
We've been around since ancient times
From small to large, with raptor claws
I think I came from dinosaurs.
February 3, 2016
Categories:
owlets, bird, imagery, tribute,
Form:
Personification
In my white feathered coat, I look divine.
I hunt at night, but also in bright day.
My bold rounded eyes as gold amber shine.
Dawn guilds my broad wing span flying away.
Soaring silent I clear steep mountain's crest,
Then swoop with precision to snatch my prey.
My talons cling tight to my beating breast,
Till I feed my owlets a father's way.
Gliding high o'er Arctic tundra I roam.
Lemmings are known as my favorite quest.
Soon I will prepare a warm cozy home
In early May when I build a large nest.
There's danger of wolves and foxes when near,
The prime predators we snowy owls fear.
2-11-16
For Personification Owl contest by Eve Roper
Categories:
owlets, bird, nature,
Form:
Personification
Cloaked in beige, the park awaits new dusk-time
and there again owlets will start to chime,
through gentle rain, silence lays all around
while leaves russet glide unto Autumn’s ground
as maples hide their flesh in lean display
where twigs imbed the gangly stems like hay
to shred reams of petals, a torn bouquet.
Yet a wooden bench glows , scenting deep night
As love bestows an oath of fate’s delight;
in September’s innate grace, one kiss, two hops
enshrining wrapped embrace through clear dewdrops
while Fall’s bench cradles woven dreams with finesse,
a season of devotion, of stars that bless
this fond appeal to grasp eternity
into all cycle’s reels, evermore free.
................
Isaiah Zerbst’s Interlocking Rhyme Contest
By nette onclaud 1/25/2015
Categories:
owlets, autumn, devotion, places,
Form:
Rhyme
Please don’t ruffle my feathers
It is very rude when you stare
I have the most sensitive hearing
And I know you are lurking there
I mainly venture out at night
For I really am quite shy
Many people don’t even see me
For I don’t make a noise when I fly
My head can turn 270 degrees
So my eyesight is extremely good
Under cover of dark I lurk in the shadows
So you may not see me in the wood
I have two enormous eyes to see my prey
My face is shaped like a heart
I have a beak instead of a nose
I swoop on a mouse like a dart
I am a master of clever disguise
My feathers can camouflage me
You may not even be aware I’m there
I can blend in with the bark of a tree
My family of owlets stay with me
We stay near our roost in the spring
Our chatter is special, we hoot twit twooo
But you won’t ever hear us sing!
02~05~16
First three stanzas of the poem to be published in January 2017 by Cambridge University Press
Contest Owls Personification form
Sponsor Eve Roper
Submitted to Premiere Contest #9
Sponsored by Skat A
Categories:
owlets, bird, nature, night,
Form:
Personification
BEAUTY BLIND in ZEUS'S EYES
Born in dark with glints of light
the baby owlet flies.
Clots of stars within the skies
and clots in owlets eyes.
Darkest night and darker days,
he soars to search for prey.
Seeing not, the hunger grows
and no light shows the way.
Need for shelter, thirst for drink,
and wanting his own nest.
Nothing safe in all the world,
and not a place to rest.
Flying on but weak from trying,
not knowing how eyes work.
All the thoughts within his head
are where the shadows lurk.
Then it rained, no shelter gained,
nor food, nor water yet.
He strikes upon a closed in porch
and thinks he's lost the bet.
Falling hard, he hits his head
and waits for all that's dead.
Someone comes and lifts him up
and gives him food and bed.
No light but still, deep inside,
a hope is whispered there.
A touch so soft, and hunger gone,
no thirst, nor cold despair.
His life enclosed inside a trunk,
provided for his care.
His days are spent in lots of play,
in starry starry stare.
Beauty blinded by a chance
and only feels and hears.
If only backwards, time could be,
to undo all his fears.
Blind beauty he, to everything,
yet his eyes show us far.
That deep in clots and clusters,
there awaits the nearest star.
Owl blind by birth and circumstance,
has seen much more than we.
Eyes renewed for bird and man,
now that would be the key.
~Edlynn Nau~
Categories:
owlets, adventure, bird, fear, hero,
Form:
Ballad
owl ruffles feathers
nocturnal hunt for small prey~
owlets wait near by
3/14/2022
Bird Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
How Many Syllables
Categories:
owlets, bird, night,
Form:
Haiku
Lake ice cracks with cold
breath hangs in frozen silence
stars sparkle above.
Great horned owls hoot
bitter February night
owlets to follow.
On this frigid night,
may we share as one this fire
that burns within us?
Categories:
owlets, valentines day, winter,
Form:
Haiku
talons clamp shrews head
body parts torn into shreds
agog owlets fed
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Syllable counter ps 5/7/5
A STRAND (1068) Poetry Contest
08/02/2022
Categories:
owlets, allusion, bird, food,
Form:
Haiku
An Owls Night Out
Perched high in the trees, far from enemies,
Your head turns in rotation, of 270 degrees.
Your sensitive ears, hears the sounds of prey,
A family of rodents, from their den they stray.
In silent flight, you take to the nocturnal sky,
Lead instinctively by your senses, as you fly.
Astute and wide eyed, raised wings of pursuit,
Your decent begins, like a free falling parachute.
Late night meal rest securely, in your talons clutch,
Baby owlets awaiting food, and their mother's touch!
An Owls night out, a birds’ eye view of normalcy,
Aided by wisdom and integrity, through eyes of mystery!
Written: © 2/10/16
Submitted for: Owls Personification form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Categories:
owlets, adventure, flying, nature, night,
Form:
Personification
Not a sound. Now hush .
Its the flap of a wing against a faded autumn leaf
the shaking of a tree branch as the snowy owl leaps .
And now a russell of fallen leaves mixed with a swish of dew covered grass
A mouse nervously looks for food knowing death is just a wings flap away.
The snowy Owls owlets wait eager for food and natures lifes cycle must be rode
The owl see's just the dropping of dew .
Swoops with talons bared and glint in its eye then disappeared into the night sky
and one single red droplet lands during the flight to indicate the mouses last fight.
The barn roof is broken the nest lays within
the noise level rises as the hooting begins
The owlets now feed and can go back to sleep
and the owl fly's away to do it again,
for a comp owls 11/02/16
Categories:
owlets, nature,
Form:
Personification
Love is in the air tonight,
I can see it everywhere.
Butterflies and dragonflies
Flirt while kissing in mid-air.
The fireflies fly flashing.
And illuminate the night.
Children seeing, squeal with glee,
And move closer to the sight.
Love is in the air tonight,
I can hear it in the trees.
Bullfrogs sing; their dreams take flight.
And love calls cling to the breeze.
The wise old owl blinks her eye.
And whistles, Hoot-hoot, hoot, hoot!
She already loves her guy.
Three owlets have just said “Hoot.”
Love is in the air, tonight.
Can you feel it in your heart?
Children gather near, each night.
Familial loves then start.
My soul feels your spirit near.
Connected, cherished within.
I see love in your eyes, my dear.
You are where loves’ breaths begin.
By Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
1/12/2017
Categories:
owlets, animal, bird, children, family,
Form:
Quatrain
Ready or not it is time to arise
She has been busy all night and it is time to close her eyes
She lives nearby high in a tree
Her rise and sleep cycle is an alarm clock for me
She has been hunting all night and it is time to rest
She is feeding her owlets and tending to their nest
I hear them noisily demanding their food
they must be an adorable feathered brood
Then as dawn breaks in the sky
Mama owl proclaims it is time to say bye
She calmly sings her song acoustic
I awake hearing her music
This natural cycle repeats every night
She tells me it is time for me to sleep as she takes flight
Categories:
owlets, bird, blessing, good night,
Form:
Rhyme
Who says that birds of different feathers can't live together?
God created different feathers for man to admire and understand that,
Similar feathers live in similar habitats,
They feed, fly and passionately protect each other.
Boulders from high, dry territories break down with time,
Roll downhill to reach distant resting places,
The gushing, foaming brooks and rivulets carry them along,
Sometimes pushing them, and sometimes letting them be when they are tired.
In this sojourn they smoothen their rough, crude exteriors,
To ready them before they reach the destination of their choice.
Their inviting looks in the doorways of the shallow babbling waters now,
Attracts the breeds of Michael Angelo's with their searching eyes.
They embroider red-green birds of space on soft angular stones,
The blue and lilac bewildered, round-eyed owlets perch quietly alongwith,
The crimson, yellow coloured netty-winged butterflies of the earth on oval seats,
While the rounded stones are like sequined multi-coloured catalysts under the sea.
Earth, space and water are united by the souls of these creative artistes.
With deft fingers and palette rainbow paints in their studios,
Nature is re-created on mandalas in all its delightful magnificence,
Which God Himself was not empowered with.
January 19, 2016
Contest:Theme#7 Colours
Sponsor: Skat A
Reference to artists like Sehnaz Bac who paint beautiful mandalas.
Categories:
owlets, beauty, bird, color, god,
Form:
Free verse
Barn owl lands on the soft grass
With a giant whump
Scaring away mice and chipmunks
They scatter in many directions
A garter snake was not as lucky
He gets carried off in giant talons
Lunch for owlets
Categories:
owlets, animal,
Form:
Free verse
When I am on the hunt if I want fresh
I choose young, it is always fresher meat.
Young bunnies, squirrels, rats, moles, voles.
Tastier, and less of a struggle.
But when my mother’s heart catches their eye,
And I think for a second of my owlets, I sometimes
Let up, and go after something that has had more of a life.
Hoping I will not also catch their eye.
Injured meat is what I swoop for if I have had a long day
And I am tired. Injured meat is easier, struggles less, and
Has a unique fear-based taste that is a little saltier.
I think it is from their blood pumping so hard as they
Struggle to get away. When they see my wing shadow, they know.
The old ones are the easiest, no matter what animal I am
Hunting. At dusk or pure black of night, they are the easiest to take down.
I do not hunt much at dawn, as that is my sleeping time. The old ones
Are grateful when I snap them up. They are ready to be torn apart.
Their spirits are grateful for the relief.
The only problem with the old one’s meat is, that it is tough,
And grainy and is not as blood-tasty as the young or the injured.
My owlets cheer when I drop a young one into our nest. When it
Is an old one, they turn up their beaks. Act like I have failed them.
I am so proud when I run an animal down for them.
The animal sees my wing shadow, and it knows I am a fantastic mother.
Categories:
owlets, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Personification