Legs weary i look for a place to rest, frost on the ground as I approach the old barn. The creak of the door as it scraps on the floor hinges rusty all brown. Eyes scan the darkness not a sound can be heard over there looks nice the moonlight just guiding me to my place o rest, sit now mate your safe.
It feels so good to be out of the woods no more rifles can be heard bullets flying taking toll, men falling as the Bluebell cushions them breaking their fall.
I can feel eyes unseen eyes staring at me, their vision is good at night looking for food. The connection is made its my friend the Tawny brown and so proud he looks down at me resting peacefully I can’t see him but he can me. Are you tired Blackie on the run from the Enemy.
He sits high on my broken beam but my 360 vision I will give to thee as I am your lookout you’ve always been kind to me. Drink now voices I hear no movement yet quick let’s go follow me, I will guide you as I fly low from tree to tree.
Brush the straw Blackie no trace of you resting scent for the dogs, as they search hunting many men are coming guns and hounds the noise is close hurry stay with my flight. Moving quickly we find safety Tawny leading me to the safety of the Old Oak standing still after bombshell explosion metal fragments embedded in the bark.
I climb high the branches are my saviour my boyhood climbing skills still in me, hiding from my Dad when he came looking for me. Can I sit on your shoulder Soldier of the War you’ve escaped them for now.
The soft brown feathers brush my cheek warm from her flight, my Owl for the night 🌙 no real light but the sense of having the best night eyesight gives me comfort my eyes start to close.
Dreams of my family so far away safe in the little cottage the fire 🔥 burns like a candle lit for my return. I see fields of green red roses to, they seem to bloom for me and you, Armstrong words and music 🎶 bring me memories of peace before I was sent to War
Kill my fellow man, I explain to my featherd friend how greed and power has devastated the once Beautiful land. There will be no winner only killing and suffering and more history for our ancestors to read.
Look the animals you love to photograph, the Deer graze on grass and roots, the Brown Hare loves the Bluebells like a fresh salad it must smell so Good. Look Blackie the White Angel hunts for her family silent I wish I had her skills movement and grace quartering the land.
Sleep now my friend, gain your strength for you can’t rest long or you will be found the dogs picked up your sent. The moon and me are your eyes tonight make your way back down the old oak will not let you fall.
Hold on tight again we take flight sing me a song you know there’s no going slow to safety we go.
I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky, I think about you every night and day spread your wings and y away.
Take my wing let’s sore me and you only goodness you seek, trees guide our way no fear of bieng caught no more I am your guardian angel I may not be white like the Barn Owl but watch me take you to safety back to your camp.
Wake up my love the sun is shining your gear is ready, find the Owl you love to photograph, dream about and write a story about flying.