On Hearing A Boobook Owl Calling - Poem by Francis Duggan
Out there on a gum tree in the park in the calm of the night
The boobook owl is calling in the faint moonlight
Mopoke mopoke he seems to say and over and again
Long after he has left the park his song with me will remain.
In thick foliage in a wooded place they rest during the day
And in darkness they venture out to hunt around for prey
Small birds and insects as well as mice go to make up their diet
Birds seldom seen in light of day shy creatures of the night.
The boobook owls within their range are not known to be rare
With other owls and birds of prey their territory they share
They are not hard to get to know their calls a give away
Though I cannot recall I've ever heard them call during the day.
A quarter moon crawls through the starry sky the night is calm and clear
And in the park on a gum tree the boobook's voice I hear
Mopoke mopoke he seems to say long after he has gone
In my memory his familiar voice is destined to live on.
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