| Poem |
 |
the owl by lynne blackOnce upon a time an owl sat
on a bough, singing and hooting
all night just out of sight.
Fuelling my obsession my family bought
me gifts, ornaments, knick-knacks and other
little bits. My home became a shrine to the
big eyed bird in time.
I thought he was there singing
just for me, but after a while I
grew tired of his melody.
I've come up with a reason why the owl
should pick on me, I've always wanted an owl to see.
Night after night with no sleep
in sightI began to prowl hating
that owl.
I tried ear plugs, sleeping pills, alcohol
and drugs but nothing seemed to work.
and the owl, well he sat on his bough and
smirked.
One morning, after a night
filled with dreams and troubled sleep
filled with the sound of th owl going
beep.
My ornaments were smashed the pictures off
the walls and the tee shirts ripped and thrown
down the hall.
And the owl, I don't think was ever there at all
| |
(2 ratings)