At night ,when all is still ,
The forest's sentinel
Glides silently across the hill .
And perches in an old pine tree ,
A friendly presence his !
No harm can come
From night bird on the prowl.
![CLASS 4th - POEM - [THE OWL]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nXkS26vc_8Tma2HEe_DIK-pKbSY8Xp5GtNiruoVzpO2w3Gk-9yrA3gGMa-vXdCJfDk1vGP1ZziicX4AIRrAO1iFPz2AkAy1pPUhAT0F5txd1YZ4jy31ACa1t_OvRJ9sBnGm_wZksb-oLj3ODkpG4JUlQ09yKPwRia0-rKMDgb4y0Dq6udbi_BMhl/s299/download%20(1).jpg "CLASS 4th - POEM - [THE OWL]")
His cry is mellow.
Much softer then a peacock's call.
Why then this fear of owls.
Calling in the night ?
If men must speak,
Then owls must hoot-
They have the right.
On me it casts no spell:
Rather , it seems to cry.
"The night is good-all's well, all;s well."
AUTHOR -
Ruskin Bond