This is an image of an owl with a mean stare which I sketched to accompany the following poem posted on the sister website, fanstory.com. The owl watches the nefarious watchers in society and hopes to unnerve them (as they do us) by revealing his secret. Happy viewing (and reading if you do!)

When my neck I turn like a screw,
Panoramic becomes my view
Of all four corners of the world,
Flat like a tapestry unfurled.
Down beam my bulging orange beads,
My keen gaze searching out the deeds
Of those whose eyes serve as the tools
Of trades that take others for fools.

In dark rooms where they steal and creep,
The burglars looting whilst you sleep,
And behind curtains where they twitch,
Eyes ringed by holes wanting a stitch,
And the butt of that seedy trope;
The pervert with a telescope,
And all those Toms who sneak a peep;
All fall within my eyeballs' sweep.

I see them beneath their disguise;
Secret agents and government spies.
I see them, also, where they lurk;
Pirates and smugglers at their work,
Watching, waitng, cloaked in shadow,
For an ill-wind your way to blow.
I see him keeping a lookout
On his belly, the crawling scout.
He scurries like the startled shrew
Whose tasty flesh I lately knew.

From my redoubt, atop my tree,
Beyond the eagle's view I see
These prowlers, raiders, ill-doers,
These oglers, peepers and voyeurs.
To these sly lot who I observe,
I own all so as to unnerve.
The watchers watched, the spies outspied;
From my cold stare, not one can hide.