The place that you 

Once called a paradise,

Is my latibule now. 

If daylight makes me 

Meet people like you,

Then I would rather be  

Making friends with the 

Owls and bats. 

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At dusk

a pink moon

low over the sheds

in a cold clear sky -

ice blue, yet light

hiding stars

a leaf fall

the pond water stills

but does not freeze

Much later

that same moon

lights my bedroom

in the cold night air -

velvet black, the sky

glints stars

an owl flash

my blood chills

but does not freeze

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Night.

I am transported by

a narrow orange moon

                and a million stars

                the still cool air

                the silence of the yard

I am welcomed by

a single ghostly owl swoop

                over the sheep fields

                the creak of my gate

                the scratch of my key on the lock

then

the silent click...

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In the grey cloudlight of a pre-dawn moon

something stayed my dream

a stray insistent noise heard through sleep

the uncertain call of the hunting owl:

I am knelt naked at the window -

beneath, the frosted grass glimmers in the pale creamglow

hazy through the early swirls of mist

but not a shade or waft disturbs the spectral scene

although my flesh seems chilled by some slig...

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There’s a charming woodland creature
reputed to be wise
With a knack for spotting problems
with their eager, clever eyes

Keen and daring to be different
Turning heads through all degrees
They love imparting knowledge
showing off their expertise

And in amongst their hunting
firmly grasped by bill and claw
they hold a sense of duty
and so, lay down the law

It’s a noi...

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