The Barn Screech Owl

More about The Barn Screech Owl

In the quiet of the night, perched high on a beam,
A barn screech owl, a creature of a nocturnal dream.
With feathers mottled, in shades of brown and gray,
Its eyes like amber jewels, keen and bright, survey.
Its haunting call, a eerie, eerie screech,
Echoes through the barn, a sound that can breach
The stillness of the night, a ghostly refrain,
A song that sends chills down the spine, a melodic strain.
With wings that span wide, yet silent in flight,
The barn screech owl glides through the darkness of night.
Its beak sharp and curved, a skilled hunter's tool,
As it seeks out prey, with a gaze sharp and cool.
In the rafters it perches, its talons grip tight,
As it waits for movement, in the moon's gentle light.
A mouse or a rat, a small creature scurries,
But the barn screech owl strikes with speed that worries.
Its prey caught, devoured with stealthy grace,
A hunter's prowess, in this quiet place.
A master of the night, a ruler of the barn,
A majestic creature, with a sense of charm.
Yet amidst the shadows, it's a symbol of wisdom,
A creature of mystery, a symbol of freedom.
A silent sentinel, of the nocturnal hours,
The barn screech owl, a nocturnal power.