No wiser is a mockingbird, lets not tell the owl.

Sweet soft grass,  
that knew no pressed foot
no grass staining cloth,
to overtake the clean,
to make less the purity,
of a gentle moment,

Resting on a branch,
with wiser eyes,
hooting at those with cheeky tails,
squirrels are nuts,
which may explain their dinner.

The owlish spectator,
puffs up his chest,
and wonders about the sights,
so neatly arranged by a godlike hand,
and wonders,
if God is also an owl.

Published by B

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog. I refer to my favorite person as TMW5T Why? because if he had 6 I'd call him TMW6T, duh!!

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