Out on this winter's evening, long before the mornings light Somewhere on some lofty perch, waits the guardian of the night For many is the evening, when the snow lies cold and deep I hear his hollow haunting call, before I fall to sleep With talons sharp and ready, keen eyes wide and feathered brow He watches o’er the meadow, on his face a fearsome scowl Oh, pity the small creature, the rabbit or the mouse Who chance to leave their burrow And then to venture out For with moonlight on his shoulder He’ll glide in silent flight And dare I say, they may fall prey To the guardian of the night
R.K. notes: “I am a simple man with an life long love of both poems and stories. I reside in the deep woods of Northern KY. My influences are Poe, Frost and Bradbury.”
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