In the quiet of the twilight’s gentle embrace,
Owls stir with grace, their wings a silent trace.
Guardians of the secrets, cloaked in moon’s glow,
Through misty woods, their wisdom flows.

Perched high upon the ancient oaken throne,
Eyes like amber lanterns, secrets yet unknown.
They watch the world with a knowing gaze,
Through shadowed paths, they silently blaze.

Echoes of their calls weave through the night,
A symphony of whispers, a dance of flight.
In the heart of darkness, they find their way,
Guided by the stars, in endless array.

Mysteries unfold beneath their feathery wings,
In the realm of dreams, where the owl sings.
With each passing night, their tales untold,
The keepers of the night, wise and bold.