An Irish Proverb- the Robin and the Wren are God’s two holy men
A Robin flew over its nest
On wet grass with haste to peck
earthworms wriggling, curlingl up soil
Over the hedge in chilled weather
Swinging flapping its little feathers
The orange breastfed robin moves
when Jesus went to Calvary
Carrying the cross on his innocent self
To suffer for sins of all mankind
Robin and Wren were Gods two helping hand
So, was it it the Robin bird
That plucked a thorn
And coloured its breast
From the crown of thorns on Jesus’s head
Little Robin also we know
The robin egg, a beautiful blue
what a lovely tinge, the robin blue
How a colour hue
found its name as Robin blue
By J K Roseline
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I have enjoyed this lovely piece very much
thank you for sharing your poetic thoughts
Peace be with you
William
The North wind doth blow, and we shall have snow,
And what will the Robin do then, poor thing,
He'll hide in a barn,
To keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing...poor thing.
Your word are so carefully chosen for maximum effect, and so vividly expressed.
I have a precious memory of my late husband out digging in our garden, and whilst he rested momentarily, a cheeky little Robin perched himself on the handle, head cocked to one side....probably after the earth worms!
Such a lovely poem..
One day in winter, there was this bush filled with red berries (I'm not sure whether they were holly or what) a flock of robins came by and sat in the bush. Within a half hour they had eaten all the berries. I could only discern that they were very hungry and that the berries were a last choice because they hadn't been eaten before. I wonder if a Christmas story could be made from that?
Ron
Many thanks.
Budd