The Old Familiar

You gild the midnight breeze with your hooting
Oh most regal neighborhood owl.
There is no sound more sylvan suiting
To be had from any other fowl,
And it is unexpected in these parts
Where recent times have been so hard on trees
And all of the modern suburban arts,
With sounds like yours, forever disagrees.

But your tenured wisdom is secured, great bird,
You see tranquility with an elder eye.
You are kindred to my nocturnal word
Just like a lighthouse foghorn in the sky!

A sky you share with no avian peer...
Just a devoted...Midnight Sonneteer!