Chatter In The Forest

Chatter In The Forest.

There’s chatter in the forest from the chipmunks and the birds.
There is positive excitement ever since they got the word.

They say, a stranger is amongst us that we’ve not seen before.
And they are shouting from the treetops down to the forest floor.

The scholars claim he could exist although he is quite unique.
For he’s written in mythology of the Norsemen and the Greek.

The native tribes are adamant; he’s been seen in days of yore.
For he’s chiseled in their petroglyphs and storied in their lore.

We know, in the book of Genesis, the Lord created quite a few.
But by the time Noah launched his Ark, he had only two.

There’s chatter amongst the masses too, the peasant, doctor, saint.
Of whether a creature could exist that really is that quaint?

The doubters are quite cynical and claim a right to ask.
Could he be with us now though dynasties have past?

Now my friends, I’m here to tell how fate had chosen me.
Perhaps by luck or happenstance or serendipity.

For while I was strolling through the woods, I saw him in a tree.
I was staring up at him and he was glaring down on me.

Time stood still. I could not move. Then I heard his plaintive call.
For this creature is none other than the Seven-Peckered Owl.

Oh, the Seven-Peckered Owl is majestic and he is wise.
And each one of his peckers is twice the normal size.

I am here to tell, this bird is more droll than one would think.
Once I was staring at his peckers and I’m sure I saw him wink.

This bird deserves to be left in peace to feed his little brood.
But like so many mortal men, I had a change of mood.

I could put him in a circus tent and place him on display.
Folks would come from miles away, no telling what they’d pay.

So I carried out my ladder and leaned it against his limb.
And left it there long enough, til it didn’t bother him.

One morning while my precious find, took his diurnal sleep.
I crept up behind that somnolent bird trying not to make a peep.

But owls are noted for their hearing and their sight.
For when I made a lunge for him he took to wing in fright.

He flew into the chicken coop and hid amongst the flock.
So I crept in between the hens and grabbed him by the cock.

The cock was quite indignant that I’d caught his avian friend.
That’s when I felt his yellow pecker pecking on my hand.

While laying in the dark and dust I loosened up my grasp.
And the last time I saw that bird, he was heading west.

Oh somewhere there’s a forest and in it there’s a tree.
Where a proud owl safely sits with his family.

Let us wish him well in his quest, for the solitude he seeks.
For we know his seven peckers are his seven beaks.

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