The Owl Who Couldn't Hoot

There once was an owl who just couldn't hoot.

No matter his efforts: it was absolute!

He'd look at the hooters and feel so alone:

All sense of belonging in him was just gone.

.

He feared they would mock him, he dared not to try

to stop by the popular tree and comply.

Confronting the others without knowing how

to hoot, felt like danger! To him, anyhow.

.

He wasn't a mute: his voice could salute.

He just was unable to make a real hoot.

He spent lots of days trying to learn,

But ended up learning other things in return

.

He'd dance on one foot. He'd strum on the lute.

He could parachute, brew drinks from dried fruit,

Wheelcarts execute, backflips followed suit,

Sing notes so acute... but not one plain hoot!

.

One night during practice, he played on his flute,

Then all of a sudden there was one loud hoot!

Another owl — Oh, surprise! — called all others around:

She followed his music, in love with its sound!

.

He knew he was different. He thought it was bad.

They saw he was special, and were all so glad

To check out the things only he could compute,

And couldn't care less that he couldn't hoot.

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This was my entry for the "Doodles and Ditties" Unofficial Challenge by Sara Wilson.

Would you like to play too? There's still time until May 31st!