Friday, February 25, 2011

The Owl

Screech Owl  
by Hope VanDerwater

The Owl

The owl hunts 
In the night 
For a chance 
To jump on  
A mouse
A bat
Small like that.
He is silent,
Wise, and old,
Kills in the dark
In the cold
He sits high up,
In a tree.
I look at him
He looks at me.
Yellow eyes,
Feathered ears
Sees in the dark
He has no fears.
I watch him fly 
Swooping away
And thank God 
I'm not his prey.

 by Georgia VanDerwater

Hope drew this owl for my dad for Christmas.  I saw it hanging in our dining room and decided to write a poem about it.  I hope you like it!

Friday, February 4, 2011

A Dog Poem by Georgia


That's the one, Mommy!
The one over there
the dog with the scar,
and curly brown hair.

No way, my darling.
Not that filthy mutt.
It probably has fleas
and look at that cut.

She's beautiful, Mom.
Not "it." She's a "her."
We'll take her home
and brush out her fur.

I'll take her walking
every day rain or shine.
We'll buy her a collar
and then she'll be mine.

We can't do this honey.
We can't take home that.
What would Dad think?
How about a cat?

No, Mom.
I won't take another.
Dad would love her.
Why can't you, Mother?

O.K. honey.
I guess she is cute.
Furry face, big brown eyes.
No, not a brute.

But you'll have to wash her.
I'm not doing that.
Don't forget to walk her
and brush out that mat.

Oh, yes, Mom,
I'll do that.
Now don't you worry.
I'll brush her and wash her
till she's more soft and furry
than she's ever been!

She and I will be best friends.
I'll name her Rebecca
and her scar I will mend.

© Georgia VanDerwater, 2011

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