top of page


Public·24 members

Experimenting with Dr. Rider, we asked our A|F Muse to write a poem about "owls". We repeated the process, asking the Muse to reduce the poem a bit more every time.

Here is how #artificialintelligence decided to write and edit its own poem about "Owls"... I hope you enjoy it!

Note - A writer myself, I don't advocate for AI to replace any writer, but that said, this is an amazing place to start from if I wanted to write about owls and was experiencing a block; or just needed inspiration... Read on!

We told the Muse to write a poem about "Owls" (that was the extent of the prompt)

In silent flight by silvered moon, they soar,

Masters of the dark, with eyes aglow,

Winged silhouettes 'gainst nocturne's decor,

The solemn owls, in mystic shadows flow.

Their calls, a haunting melody at night,

Echos of ancient wisdom on the breeze,

Each hoot a song within the dim starlight,

A serenade amidst the whispering trees.

Talons sharp as nature's honed daggers,

Feathers brushed with hues of earthen tones,

They perch, as if the night itself staggers,

Beneath the weight of their silent thrones.

Guardians of secrets, old and untold,

In their gaze, the universe they hold,

With a grace that's both serene and bold,

Owls, the timeless stories they unfold.

By day, they slumber, hidden from our sight,

In hollows, cloaked by bark and leafy screens,

But when dusk unfurls, they take to flight,

To dance with shadows and commune with dreams.

So let us praise these creatures of the night,

Who through the evening's canvas deftly weave,

Their presence felt, but barely within sight,

The regal owls, who in the stars believe.

We told the Muse to make it "shorter" and Muse replied:

In the quiet veil of night they glide,

Beneath the moon's soft, silvered light,

Eyes aglow, with silent pride,

The owls reign o'er the quiet night.

A whisper through the forest deep,

Their wings, no sound, they seem to keep,

In shadows' keep, their secrets lie,

Mysterious rulers of the sky.

By day they hide, by dusk they wake,

With ghostly calls, the stillness break,

Owls, the night's enchanting fowl,

In moonlit majesty, they prowl.

We told the Muse to make it "one stanza" and Muse replied:

In twilight's hush, the owls take flight,

With silent wings beneath the moon's soft light,

Eyes piercing through the shroud of night,

Guardians of secrets, cloaked in mystic might.


Poetry, derived from the Greek poiesis, also called verse, i...
bottom of page