Long Barn owl Poems
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Gambling in the forest took on a whole new flavor today.
The princess Adrianna joined us, bringing dice to the fray.
We shook them and threw them, hoping for the big win.
Antlered deer had trouble, his hoofs are so thick, not thin.
Barn owl came to join us, he likes red apples too.
We congratulated him on his flight and the way he flew.
Antlered deer asked us to give him another roll, please.
We said okay, but the dice flipped over against the breeze.
He is cheating! The spoiled pointy-hatted princess yelled.
An arrow came by, but it was quickly diverted and felled.
Gambling in the forest is great! Said the rabbit up high.
All I want is one apple the deer said with a cough and sigh.
the rain water inundates my home,
and one day almost killed my little one,
had to carry him across to a dry ledge,
and this is the story, every rain.
Kind sir, I said to the big mountain,
since you are so huge and so mighty,
can you please stop the rain?
There was no sound,
amidst thunder and wind,
water kept pouring, running down the hill,
submerging trees and flooding the river.
I scampered back and forth,
from my food stores to my home,
children get so hungry in the rain.
night vigil in my little deep tunnel,
amidst the brambles and stones,
to keep the venomous rattler out.
bright day and the rain has died down,
and the house is dry.
I counted the little ones and all is right.
If not the rattler, it is the fox,
and the barn owl and then this rain!
I have decided to move home from here!
a cave where the big striped cat lives.
my cousin says, it is added security!
“ever heard of a mouse living with a cat?”
I sometimes laugh to myself.
The truth is sometimes, you are safer
hiding with a known enemy
than living with an inconsiderate friend.
There sits along a well traveled road, a house forgotten so long ago
Brown faded logs, bleached from hot Summers seasons
Stand proud against its kindred trees
Its roof top still shelters the memories it holds
As the stack from a chimney serves as anchor below
White linen curtain now tattered and soiled
Snag against each splintered pane
The lattice now gone where roses once thrived
Bountiful garden, now scarcely alive
Cupboards lay claim to a family of six
Nestled and sleeping among their beds wove from sticks
Barn owl now perched, as it waits for the shadows too grow taller
As the daylight grows dimmer with each passing hour
Strong against the test of time, a house is still standing
Very much, Still alive
Standing strong against the clearings
she flew past me in the dead of night
bright with an enormous wing span
if she had been dark, I would have thought vampire
she seemed that large, and intimidating at two a.m.
my husband had never seen anything like it.
was that a miniature alien? He asked me.
He asks some interesting questions, all the time.
This is why I do not trade him for a younger model.
a barn owl, I told him, you can tell from the white face.
I had never seen one with such an angelic look.
This one must have had a message.
She looked straight out of heaven.
I felt strongly that the angels sent her.
I listened to the leaves of the trees moving.
Hoping she would return for another swoop down.
Wishing I knew what she was trying to tell us.
But it did not happen.
barn owl scared her in dead of night
she should not have gone out, but she did
he was staring at her
an all knowing stare
she thought of her husband
gone forty-two years already
two weeks later
a wrapping at her window
sounded like a fingernail
she felt it was him, but she was scared
Frightened, she hid under her covers
A different sound this time.
A hoot owl’s hoot.
She wondered about the omens
An owl means death, right?
Two owls in two weeks.
A coincidence?
Or was her Native American spirit animal speaking?
The next morning she sat down to eat her marmalade toast.
An oversized spotted owl flew past her kitchen window
She was too scared to move.
Decided to tell no one.
I heard the scraping sound and wondered
Is it the oak again? Is she shedding a limb?
The turquoise moon brought my attention upwards
It was the most unusual color, but who would believe me?
I ran inside for my camera.
When I returned two eyes were peeking.
They were aquamarine orbs. Had the oak developed eyes?
I took the photo, and ran inside.
An ethereal vision appeared in the oak's leaves.
A gorgeous tan owl in the throes of his own wonderment.
I was amazed and intrigued.
Ran back out to see if there was more to see.
The owl was gone, but I had proof.
It was the most beautiful owl I had ever seen.
A hoot owl? A barn owl?
A turquoise eyed moon owl, my muse assured me.
She is the smart one in this twosome.
I took out my pen and began to write.
~*~
I am one of nine babies born in a farmer's barn,
The barn is cozy and even has an owl door;
My birth nest so warm with stuff like grandma's yarn,
To keep us fed- into the dark mom will soar.
The barn is cozy and even has an owl door,
My perfect ears, heard the farmer call us owls;
To keep us fed- into the dark mom will soar,
While waiting for food I do whistles and howls.
My perfect ears, heard the farmer call us owls,
Oh, we are the only owl with a heart-shaped face;
While waiting for food I do whistles and howls,
Today I went hunting- had my own prey to chase.
Oh, we are the only owl with a heart-shaped face,
Felt the urge to leave today- on my vibrant wings;
Today I went hunting- had my own prey to chase,
I flew to a church steeple- made a nest of odd things.
Felt the urge to leave today- on my vibrant wings,
My birth nest so warm with stuff like grandma's yarn;
I flew to a church steeple- made a nest of odd things,
I am one of nine babies born in a farmer's barn.
_______________________
January 31, 2016
Pantoum/Personification/The Barn Owl
Copyright Protected, ID 16-750-702-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Owls Personification,
Sponsor, Eve Roper
Second Place
"A spell cast beneath the moon will not grant
what a lonely heart desires." ~Poet's quote
She wears the feverish pink blush of innocence
But this young enchantress has painted her own cheeks.
Her dark eyes, smoke shadowed, she intends wickedness,
casting a spell with the mystical words she speaks.
As a barn owl watches with intense suspicion,
condoning her sorcery with shrill piercing taunts.
Poised, she continues with tenacious petition,
chanting the words of havoc on the man she wants.
Beneath the pallid glimmer of the haloed moon
she summons a nebulous mist up from the sea.
Then, softly singing a beguiling old fey tune,
croons 'til an avian flock appears from her plea.
Ravens do the bidding of her archaic charm.
With an eerie gleam shining in their beady eyes,
they'll encircle the man with their cries of alarm,
cawing the curse to make him love her by sunrise.
She wears the feverish pink blush of innocence,
As a barn owl watches with intense suspicion.
Beneath the pallid glimmer of the haloed moon,
Ravens do the bidding of her archaic charm.
December 9, 2020
My Created Form~Rhyme4 Mix
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I’d plow four rocky acres, maybe even five,
For a taste of the honey from my Honey’s hive.
No one spices the clover like my lover does
When we meet in the meadow and we buzz, buzz, buzz.
She’s a blue ribbon winner at the county show;
Sings a nice little number, ends in E-I-O.
She can flirt with the judges and they think it’s cute;
When she winks like a barn owl, they shout hoot, hoot, hoot.
Buzz, buzz, buzz, hoot, hoot, hoot.
Dance ‘round the hen house in a chicken suit.
Learn how to juggle, break an egg or two,
Then we’ll make rooster jealous when we doodle-do.
See the ducks swim in circles on the lily pond
And that one lonesome froggie in the mist beyond.
We can drop our pretensions (standing back-to-back),
Then we’ll slip in the water going quack, quack, quack.
I’m a ham-fisted farm boy, Sugar. Holy cow!
Got a stool and a bucket and I do know how.
We’ll have sweet cream and peaches once the milkin’s through,
When our lips come together and we moo, moo, moo.
Quack, quack, quack, moo, moo, moo.
Work like the devil with a pitchfork, too.
Warn all the pigeons we’ll be pitchin’ woo
When we meet in the hayloft and we coo, coo, coo.
I sit on my hill and I look at my view.
And a cold world spans to the horizon.
I hear the wind howl and I see the rain drive. And I feel a world of no sun shining.
I watch the clouds gather and I hear the sky thunder. And I see lighting crack the darkening grey skies in front and behind the horizon.
I listen to the sounds of the winds mauling the grounds. And I hear the barn owl cry knowing the hunting tonight will be poor and wanting.
I sit here on my hill watching the view of my night. And seeing the hills of the trees swaying and fighting.
I see the rains move and feel the winds turn towards here from where I’m looking. And I wait until the first drop aims right through my window to strike me like it knew I was watching!
I close the glazed light to hold back the rough night. And I close my eyes on my hill listening to the rains and winds battle with strong will behind my still curtains.