Comments about GORDON BUTCHERS
The Wise Old Owl
The wise old owl sits in the tree top
Hidden out of sight,
Watching, and listening to every sound
In the dead of night.
With big wide eyes he watches
For some unsuspecting prey,
And hooting in the darkness
Until the break of day.
He watches over the creatures of the night
With big wide eyes that stare,
And if it wasn't for his hooting
You would never know he was there.
A Tale Of Winter
From winter skies snowflakes fall
Turning everything so bright,
The fields the hills and all around
All carpeted in white.
Everything shrouded in winter whiteness
For as far as the eye can see.
Apart from robin redbreast
In the branches of an old yew tree.