The Owl

Swiftly gliding through the air,
round and round without a care.

See’s something moving on the ground,
swoops on down to what she’s found.

Flies on back to nest in loft,
Fluffy chicks, they feel so soft.

Snuggles on down for the night,
Ready for another flight.

The moon will rise,
The sun will fall,
When the owl hoots her next call.
 

Todays poetry contest submission was written by Miranda Overend.

 

Do you think it could possibly be one of the best new poems of 2013?