King of my garden, the robin – he

Who sings with joy from a branch of a tree.

   The summer’s gone and the cold winds blow,

   But Robin sings on through the ice and the snow.

 

King of my garden, the robin - he

Who drives other birds from the lilac tree.

   The container is filled with the sweetest of seeds

   And it’s here that the little birds gather to feed.

 

King of my garden, the frost’s all around.

You’re searching for worms in this cold, frozen ground.

   And where do you sleep, my sweet little king?

   “Tucked up in your hedge, my head under my wing.”

 

Copyright 2013

The robin is one of the few birds who sing all year round.  Autumn and spring songs are distinctly different.  When do they lay their eggs?  Read the RSPB article here:  

Background Heading

King of my garden, the robin - he

Who sings with joy from a branch of a tree.

    The summer’s gone and cold winds now blow,

    But Robin sings on through the ice and the snow.

 

King of my garden, the robin - he

Who drives other birds from the lilac tree.

    The container is filled with the sweetest of seeds

    And it’s here that the little birds gather to feed.

 

King of my garden, the frost’s all around.

You’re searching for worms in this cold, frozen ground.

    And where do you sleep, my sweet little king?

    “Tucked up in your hedge, my head under my wing.”

 

Copyright on all my poems

 

* Published in 2010

 

Heading Eggs
RSPB article
Bird Poems Potentially Poetical Happy Christmas Robin Dear Sing Robin Sing Children's Listening Page Don't Be an Early Worm