The Snow Owl

Upon her perch she sits on high

Watching all that saunters by

Taking in every movement that passes

Watching through eyes that look like glasses

With ears tufts that are barely visible to the eye

The female of the species is ready to fly

At a moments notice to catch her prey

Is the way she spends most of her day

Searching diligently for food to feed her young

As on life’s ladder, they climb a rung

With her mate who she spends her life

Like any other homely wife

Hunts by day and sleeps at night

In darkness, she can still cast a fright

Her piercing yellow iris deeply set

Shines and stares, as bright as it can get

A contrast to her snow-white face

As she sits with never a feather, out of place

Her nest though is situated on the ground

But well hidden, rarely found

Taking turns to stand guard

Because their life is harsh, so very hard

To fend for her young, generally from eight to ten or more

Many mouths to find food for

But she’s still one of God’s loveliest creatures that’s for sure

The like of which will be around for evermore