Owl As you glide past my head, I wonder... What is it like, To be an owl? To have all the world, Under your watchful eye? To glide silently, a ghost? To feel the wind, That's seen a thousand things, Under your wing? To have eyes that work best in the dark? To catch your prey before they are alerted to your presence? To know the secrets of the forest? To be forever mysterious? To be free? Al of these questions I mightn't be able to answer, But I do not know whether I would want to know the answer, Because then you wouldn't be the mystical hunter of the Dark.
As I Write These Words... As I write these words, I think of you. I think of the gentle curve of your face, When you smile. The movement of your hair, When you run to greet me. The colour and intensity of your eyes, When you gaze down at me in adoration, A love I don't deserve, But shall never fail to return. As I close my eyes, I dream of you.