Song From The WoodA Poem by PeteWhen other birds are still, the screech owls take up the strain, like mourning women their ancient u-lu-lu. - Thoreauin the defunction of night darkness my sight the moon as a night light you awakened me with your sweet song echoing through the trees ushering truth, peace and serenity in times such as these your song fragrant like myrrh i had no need to ask who you were i needed no clue because i knew it was you launching a peaceful coup serenading me with a song from the wood from the center stage of that branch upon which you stood as a shooting star, i wish you would return for an encore of your presence, i'm in need of more for sure because i know you could because you should in your feathered hood your hoot-toot-toot does me good oh how i pray that you would © 2025 PeteAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on May 15, 2025 Last Updated on May 15, 2025 |

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