Posted in Photography, Poems

Hoot of the owl

From the time of Ancient Greece.
The guardian of such cities.
Sitting at Athena’s blind side.
For thus she saw the truth.

They call you the wise one.
Solemn in appearence.
Intelligence in your big eyes.
A symbol of wisdom given you.

Yet, seen as omens of bad luck.
To hear its hoot means bad news.
Someone is going to die.
Known as harbingers of death.

One night I heard the owl hoot.
On the roof top it perched.
A white owl, so solemn a look.
No bad omens from this owl.

Harry Potter made a difference.
The owls brought in the mail.
Dozens of owls in all sizes.
Nothing but cuteness in them.

A world full of myths and legends.
Of creatures to be feared or not.
Tales of magic; of the spooky.
Of this owl, I heard its hoot.

By C.E. Pereira

My Owl Collectibles




I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. In recent years, the younger generation have added on to include spouses from the Philippines, Nigeria and Russia. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira

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