Well you're a cheery couple for a Friday morning and no mistake. What with the dark dank day outside I might as well finish it now ;-) On second thoughts, I'll top the two of you and not m'self with the remaining lines from The Owl, recently suggested for Jane's painting of Oxford; it continues sadly thus -
Poacher of the darkness rising
sees his rival gently gliding
removes a blackened barb propelling
to the heart of freedom flying
Down the owl
to earth's rust not far below thee
There to dream his love's
There to flutter
at death's door lonely.
(Going back to bed for half an hour until the melancholy passes :-) but thanks for the two great additions, now duly added to the stack.