A Wise Old Owl……


A wise old Owl

Sat on an Oak Tree

Munching away on His Acorn

All by Himself to His glory

Not to be perturbed by other birds

But silently seeing the fun and frolic.

The more He saw His Aura

Like a flightless brush of air

Chiseled and molded finely was He

The less He spoke, quiet He became

Words were not required

He could enjoy the scenic stillness.

The More He Heard

From would be passersby

He thought to Himself

Why can’t we be

Like that Wise Old Bird?

Who is never to be seen

Yet seen also…………


47 thoughts on “A Wise Old Owl……

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