An Owl Problem?

 An Owl Problem
By Josephine E. Toal

I thought I lived among the owls,
Within a hollow tree;
It was so queer so strange and odd,
And funny as could be.

My hair stuck up in tufts like ears,
My arms turned into wings,
And feathers grew all over me--
Soft, gray, downy, fuzzy things.

Instead of nose I had a bill;
My eyes were oh, so big!
We sat upon a limb, and curled
Our toes about a twig.

We went to bed when it was day,
And stayed awake all night;
The man in the moon came 'round at ten,
With lantern shining bright.

Of course, I meant to be polite,
And so, I think, would you;
But when I tried to speak to him
I only said, "Tu-whoo!"

And when I mentioned supper-oh!
What do you think they brought?
A horrid, wriggling, live gray mouse
Some wicked owl had caught!

I screamed right out, and then I woke.

"You dreamed it," mama said.

But, sure's you're born, I found-I-did-

A feather in my bed!

It came out of my pillow-tick

Matilda's certain quite,-

But I'm not sure-perhaps I was

A truly owl last night.