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A silent white shadow
A ghost on the breeze
Adrift in the air
I sail through the trees
A phantom a spectre
I scare girls and boys
In the darkness of night
An uncanny noise
Their eyes wide and staring
They listen for me
Envisioning demons
Or ghostly banshee
I’m spooky I’m scary
And what’s more, to boot
I’m an owl I don’t care
I just don’t give a hoot

Editing stage: 


I really enjoyed your rhyming scheme on this poem. Good title, too! I read this piece appreaciating the eerie build up and an humorous conclsion! Good work!

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:

Thanks Cat,

I wrote this after my grandaughter visited a couple of weeks ago, she's 4 and lives in a town, when she heard the owls hooting and screeching she was terrified, as she was leaving a big barn owl flew overhead and she's now convinced that I live in a haunted wood. thanks for stopping by.


author comment

Smashing-spooky. Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I can picture it happening, lovely humorous poem. Great work. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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