Spring Robin
“The melody of birdsong resonates the tune of companionship
in the silent ether of loneliness” – Quote by poet
In one seraphic spring’s glowing dawn pearly,
I saw a delicately weaved artwork of bird nest,
nestled on the magnificent magnolia tree.
Its baroque bough in full bloom at the crest
over the backyard lawn, sparkling at its best.
Since then, I see a cheery Robin every morn,
full of zest through the crispy fragrant air fly low
with the wings spread to span airborne
the cerulean sky over the green meadow,
and descend to its nest as my songbird of the show.
The bird of bright flushing daylight
tweeters to the scintillating tune of glee
of the sunburst spectral surge of delight,
reveals the secrets of avian exhilaration to me
from within the silky scarlet breast feathery.
When all the thrushes are draped by silent veil,
my Robin sings to the shining hue
of the unfurling flower of the dawn frail,
the melody cascading on the track of the sunray new,
the tune drifting away on the wings of wind passing through.
As the storm clouds in the slate horizon stratify,
the recluse Robin swings on the tree swaying,
flutters the shaded wings soaring high
in the shifting shadow of wispy clouds fraying,
longing to get drenched in the colors of rainbow straying.
The charming bird perched on the branch bowed
outside the window gives me company in lonely hours of leisure,
singing delightful songs that sail in the air through the cloud,
suffuses my secluded time with tunes of melodic pleasure
with the breath of sensuous joy beyond measure.
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