The Tree, January 2011
In my backyard there is a tree.
And in the tree there is a hole.
In that hole there is a squirrel.
With that squirrel there are some nuts.
The squirrel eats the nuts.
Above the squirrel there is a hole.
A hole of owl feathers and 3 babies.
Here comes mother owl.
It is cozy.
The seasons change and time goes by.
The leaves fall off.
And grow back.
A crow comes and builds a nest, with the owl and the squirrel.
I have no more to tell you now.
5 comments:
Owen, your poem is fantastic! I honestly believe you could get that published! Thanks, Lisel, for posting! I bet if you met Uncle Bill's bees you could do a great poem on them, too!!
Aunt Carol
Owen, your backyard tree sounds like a lovely, cozy neighborhood. No wonder the "wise old owl" decided to move in with her babies. Your poem is beautiful and it makes me happy to read it!
Sorry...forgot to sign my note. GG
Owen - that is so creative, I can see it all happening without even being there. Great job! Love you, Aunt Kirsten
And so the "Collected Works of Owen Goetz" begins... Lovely.
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