Owls.

Owls? Yes, owls.

My father-in-law loves them because he says they send their young off to discover life for themselves at an early age. Everybody knows he loves owls and as a result his house is filled with owl merchandise. My grandmother, who used to be a teacher, wrote a poem about owls. Last night, I read it for the first time.

OWLS.
They tell me that owls
Are intelligent fowls
Mine just sit around saying WHO
You wold think now and then
Either cock bird or hen
Would venture a "how", "where" or "when"?
I think it's their eyes
That makes us surmise
There's a great wisdom lurking within
But I think I'd much rather
Hear kookaburra laughter
I don't need an answer for him

M. Streader