(from the French of Charles Baudelaire)
Sheltered by the sombre yews
the owls are perched abreast in rows,
just like outlandish deities.
They dart their orange eyes, and muse.
Without a movement they remain
until that tristful time arrives
when fading sunset at last fails,
and all about them darkness reigns.
From ‘Nature’
© 2023 Dafydd Hughes Lewis. All rights reserved. 
To a lover of birds, trees and rhymes, this has it all – beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jacydo. I thought it was time for something short and different, and, not having looked at ‘Owls’ for a long while, was surprised by the picture!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A wonderfully atmospheric cameo of these twilight birds! Diolch am rannu Dafydd.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Gill. Sorry for the delay replying. I’m surprised that I’m able to send this, as I can’t communicate on FB.
LikeLike
I hope the problems will be resolved shortly, and look forward to your next post. Hwyl am y tro.
LikeLike
Thank you, Gill. It may be a little while before the next one goes up.
LikeLike