The Owls in Chandler's Wood

The phone rang almost off the hook

But I got to it in time,

‘You’d better come here and take a look!’

Said the voice of Esther Clyne.

I shook my head, rolled over in bed,

And said, ‘It’s after one!

It’s after one in the morning, Ess!’

She said, ‘You’d better come!’

 

Ess was an ornithologist

And she lived in Chandler’s Wood,

She’d never been an apologist

But demanded, when she could,

‘It’s pretty late,’ I tried to state,

‘Can it wait until I’m free?’

Her voice came rattling down the line,

‘Not now, just come and see!’

 

I dropped the phone with a silent curse

As I scrambled out of bed,

And wondered which of her feathered friends

Had disturbed the woman’s head.

She’d called me out for a frigatebird

That she’d spotted from her snug,

And many a rare and crested tern,

And even a vagrant dove.

 

I wore a hat and a leather coat

It was getting cold outside,

Grabbed me a pair of driving gloves

And I took the four wheel drive,

The track was sticky in Chandler’s Wood

It had rained the day before,

And headed in through the Maple trees

To the house she called ‘Jackdaw’.

 

I pulled up by her verandah, she

Had been waiting there for me,

Handed over a walking stick,

‘To beat them off, you’ll see!’

We walked together towards the lake

And there we saw old Jack,

The poor old guy was about to die,

Was lying flat on his back.

 

He seemed to have lost a lot of blood

It was streaked all over his face,

His shirt was tattered his trousers torn

There was blood all over the place,

And round him gathered the strangest group

That  ever I’ve seen, no lies!

For there was a couple of hundred owls

And one had pecked out his eyes.

 

I started to raise the walking stick

‘Shall I beat them off with this?’

She said she didn’t know what to do,

The ornithologist!

‘The stick is just to protect yourself

Should they suddenly attack,

Owls are nocturnal hunting birds,

We don’t want to end like Jack!’

 

There were Tawny Owls and scrawny owls

And a Snowy Owl or two,

A couple of hundred Barn Owls

Up in the trees for a better view,

The Moon was reflected in their eyes

As they sat and stared us down,

Perched in the trees around us and

A-blink, not making a sound.

 

Esther motioned to come away,

‘We can’t do anything here,

We’ll come again in the morning when

The ground and the trees are clear.’

So we edged away and we got to pray

But neither would turn our back,

We knew if we tried to run away

We’d end up as dead as Jack.

 

No sooner back at the house, ‘Jackdaw’

We locked the shutters in place,

Bolted the front and laundry doors

And blocked the chimney piece,

Esther put on the kettle, thinking

To make a pot of tea,

But outside there was a whirring sound

So we both looked out to see.

 

The owls were perched on the hand rail

On the verandah, all in a line,

They stared at the house unblinking

Being so patient, biding their time,

They pecked their way through the telephone line,

We couldn’t call out by phone,

And then they set up a screeching that

Sent chills through me to the bone.

 

I knew all about the Hoot Owl

But I’d never have heard them screech,

If Esther hadn’t have called me up

When I should have been asleep.

The screeching rattled the window panes

Then Esther let out a howl,

And suddenly they all flew away,

There wasn’t a single owl!

 

They found her out in the woods today

I can’t say I was surprised,

They said it must be a bird of prey

Attacked, and pecked out her eyes.

I’ve never been back to Chandler’s Wood

Since I got that late night call,

But don’t want to end like Esther, so

I keep a gun on the wall.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[annie lee]

What a chilling and epic tale! Just in time for Halloween. The owl has always seemed so enigmatic to me but always beneficent. Perhaps they had a code amongst themselves. Why was Jack an enemy? And why was Esther an enemy? A thorny question to roll around in my head as I think about your poem. Brilliant.

[Daniel Sala]

Masterpiece. Not only utterly absorbing, very amusing too. Maestro.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

A very horrific tale David. Another good story.

[Strider Marcus Jones]

A touch of Hitchcock and dark humour. Excellent tale. 100/100. You are welcome to check out my stuff on here David.

[Enid Blake]

And why did the owls turn?... I enjoyed this, reminded me of Hitchcock or some of the Herbert books I read when I was younger. You can't beat a creature feature ;)

[BruceDog]

Wow...very clever and creepy. Loved it.

[Marie]

Sounds like that old movie "The Birds"...all those owls watching the house...pecking through the telephone line...