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A Red Breasted Robin
Spied a red robin, hopping on the grassy mead
Tilting its head this side and that, looking for feed
Knew her young ones were waiting eager to grab in
Hopping on the grassy mead, spied a red robin
I have found its nest on a tree by the brook side
When in flight, it's a beauty in bright colours dyed
Flying around, it searches for food without rest
On a tree by the brook side, I have found its nest
From branch to branch the bird hops, singing songs merry
With its beak, it pecks at clusters of red cherry
To check enemies, from its nest, sometimes it peeps
Singing songs merry, from branch to branch the bird hops
Sitting on an oak, every day it sweetly sings
From places far and near, its cadence loudly rings
Its musings drive away all thoughts gloomy and dark
Every day it sweetly sings, sitting on an oak
Hearing its sweet strains, my vexations go to roost
The lovely bird’s presence makes me feel richly blest.
In music’s magic spell, it drowns valleys and planes
My vexations go to roost, hearing its sweet strains
October.5.2022
Swap Quatrain Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Emile Pinet
Copyright ©
Valsa George
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