The Wise Old Owl - Poem by GORDON BUTCHERS
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.
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