Whenever I’m out walking and I hear the beautiful song of a Robin I sing this wee song I made up in my head:
Come little Robin, come to me.
I hear your song and I long to see,
Your bright red breast, and that glint in your eye,
As you cock your head, when I whisper, ‘Hi.’
Nine times out of ten the Robin shows itself as if by magic 🙂 Here are some photos:
Carol Jones' Stories 