Around our wooded property
A courtship gets underway
An unseen force marks his territory
In darkness; waiting for his prey
In the chill starts the hooting season
And, we always hear the raucous sounds
But, sadly we rarely get a glimpse
Of this force here on our grounds
It is comforting to know when
We hear the rowdy courtship cry
The night shift is still here somewhere
High in a pine or oak nearby
Linking with Poets United Midweek Motif…The Owl
Photo/Unsplash
Marvelous write!
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteNice poem Vicky
ReplyDeleteMuch💛🖤💛love
Thank you.
DeleteLovely poem! High in a pine or oak nearby....
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteThis precisely applies to our own resident owl, seen on rare occasions, but speaking softly in the night.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteThe hooting cries of courtship as he comes out at night seeking his mate.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteMaybe they don't like prying eyes any more than people do! But yes, it's a comfort to know they are there and that the night is far from empty.
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DeleteHow wonderful to be able to hear them, knowing they are close by.
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DeleteYeah...Owl is a Force indeed!
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DeleteThe night shift! How cool is that? And also the idea of courtship turns WOO into WHO, and suggests the new couples go out for dinner together.
ReplyDeleteI am taken by the night-shift too, for how right you are. Our little owl friends lords and ladies of the night, hooting their presence, letting us (and each other) know they are there.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Yes, I hear them too and would LOVE to see one. Sigh.
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