Beaneath the bends of Barrymore
On the southwest winds she chants some more
The clouds scoot by beneath the moon
Some say she's crazy like the loon
Dressed in black she cackles back
Tossing ashes from a sack
She throws her body down
And moans and sobs into the ground
A dagger she does draw it forth
Holding it up for all it's worth
She shrieks and damns her birth
And plunges it into her heart...
Ends the life of the despised young tart

Now the owls come silently in
Alighting next to the still warm skin
All walk around the disposed young beast
Only uttering, 'Who? ' to say the least
Then the great owl comes fluttering in
He'd be a giant if he were of men
He collectively surveys the scene
Takes a few steps before he says a thing
'Take her body to Evermore'
The great one orders and implores
And all the owls take to wing
Holding the remains of the breathless thing
And take her earthly shell away
To the land as some will say
To the sacred woods of Evermore

Midnights Voice

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/talking-owls-of-evermore/