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Once there was a baby owl –
     Tiny was his name –
But Tiny didn’t like mouse-meat,
     Which really was a shame.

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His mother said: ‘You silly boy.
     All owls kill mice to eat,’
And, ‘Come on Tiny, hurry up
     And eat this lovely meat.’

 

But Tiny thought about the mouse:
     ‘Poor little thing,’ he thought,
And he felt sorry for the mouse
     Which mother owl had brought.

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But Tiny’s brother seized the mouse
     Which quickly disappeared –
And all day long he grabbed the food
     And just as you’ll have feared . . . . .

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Poor Tiny’s hunger grew and grew:
     Quite soon he felt quite weak.
And the future for this little owl?
     For certain it seemed bleak.

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His brother said: ‘Oh Tiny Owl,
     You really ought to eat’ –   And . . 
‘Try this piece of good mouse-meat:
     I’m sure you’ll find it sweet.’

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So Tiny tried a little bit,
     And yummy, it was good.
Thereafter he ate up his food
     As little owls all should.

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Now Tiny’s name is Tawny Owl.
     He’s such a splendid sight
And perhaps you’ve heard: ‘Twit twoo’
     As he hunts mice at night.

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