Robin

Outside the window,
mid-story in tree,
head on my pillow,
there a nest to see.

Robin, to and fro,
as she adds more twigs,
watching the nest grow,
while she does her jigs.

Slight body of gray,
her belly all red,
white Crescent’s, eyes gay,
bobbing dark head.

Early morning song,
the greeting to day,
the fast notes sung strong,
to the robin’s sway.

The cracking of dawn,
brings a feast to eat;
Insects on the lawn,
hear the tweet, sweet tweet.

And the robin sits,
upon her blue eggs;
Perfectly she fits,
bending her small legs.

Now, twelve days later,
three nestlings emerge.
Mother does cater,
the babies do splurge-

Thirteen days did pass,
such a daunting sight,
mother holding class,
nestlings take to flight.

Fourteen days after,
now strong little birds,
bringing on laughter,
smiles replacing words.