I remember watching a little red robin in my 

parents garden, 

It use to sit on the handle of my father`s spade.

Mister Robin

The muffled silence of this winter garden

sparkling with ice on the laden trees

the festive season is here once again

wild life still thrives even through this freeze

for snow has settled on every surface

paw prints make patterns in the deep crisp snow

there amongst the branches he sits watching

Mister Robin`s bright red waist coat for show

with black beady eyes darting all around

there`s nothing he`ll miss from his world on high

from the fat house cat to the grey pigeon

he`s waiting his supper, he`s so sly !

so glad the festive season`s started

for white powered snow is found everywhere

Mister Robin is perched on my apple tree

looking like a very smart millionaire!             

 © Lis Bull 2018