Now that the sun has gone to take his rest,
And we have eaten our own evening meal,
We eagerly await our garden guest,
The little redbreast to bird-feeder steal;
While other feathered friends will come and go,
Throughout the day with little or no rest,
Our robin, at sunset, flies to and fro,
As though he comes to feed at our behest.
He sits on perch and lifts his handsome head,
I’m sure, he knows we’re watching from within,
He senses there is naught for him to dread,
Secure as he would be with kith and kin;
The mysteries of Nature none can plumb,
Replete with marvels rendering many dumb!