Joe1302

No sound.

Come flow the willow

come beckon the call.

The owl is hunting

no sound at all.

The fox is hunting

out on the fen.

Long before day break

he be a sleep in his den.

Come herald the day break

the horn and the hounds.

The fox is dead

the owl makes

no sound

A Night In Late Autumn

The sky is dark the countryside is quiet

But the spur winged plovers cry out in the night

Above their territory they call and fly

Perhaps the hunting fox is prowling by.

The possums hiss on gum tree in the park

And in a yard nearby a terrier bark

At wailing tom cats fighting on the street

For the right to mate with a female in heat.

The night is calm there's scarce a puff of breeze

And boobook owl hunting for small birds in the cypress trees

Repeat the same call over and again

And frogs are croaking in the pond and drain.

The countryside may seem quiet after dark

But in the sky above the nearby park

The spur winged plovers cry out in the night

Perhaps a fox has driven them to flight