The moon seems unawareof night's dark hittingon the damp warm rain misguiding owl's spitting A thunder light of loveraising hearts beatingwhile weather learns morefrom rain lovers meeting
Oh, what a lovely owl! Cried the Wart.But when he went up to it and held out his hand, the owl grew half as tall again, stood up as stiff as a poker, closed its eyes so that there was only the smalles...
Do not trap yourself into an owl's hooting soundwhere sad nights linger through the blackness of a hound
An owl is mostly air.
Perhaps he does not want to be friends with you until he knows what you are like. With owls, it is never easy-come-easy-go.