The Robin

on the fence she sits so plump,her breast as red as embers
her feathers fluffed her eyes so bright,she loves theese cold novembers
as other birds stay in their nests awaiting summer days
the robin sings and chats and hops as in the snow she plays
she keeps me happy with her songs, through winters coldest time
her notes are shrill and charged with hope and often seem to rhyme
on branch or fence or teapot spout, she lands with such fine grace
she eyes a frozen spiders web that hangs like fine spun lace
looking for its host no doubt a much sought after snack
hes not at home hes on the hunt,but she knows that hell be back
she sets her sights on a coconut husk in the branches of a tree
she pecks and pulls with all her might till that white stuff comes free
shes not too keen on coconut but at least it filled a corner
a kestral circles overhead and the blackbirds screech to warn her
off she darts shes quick and nimmble bolting for the cover
the kestral knows hes missed a chance and he may not get another
among the ivy leaves she hides a dense and dark safe haven
the kestrals gone its beady eye set on a coal black raven
her tiny head peeps out the leaves her eyes alert and bright
the winters day draws to a close and ushers in the night
theres surely time for one last meal before the dark creeps in
she spots some rice and harricot beans in the snow beside the bin
she guards that banquet with her life her breast puffed out in warning
the nourishment in those beans and rice will sustain her till the morning
the meal is finished not a mo to soon and the gardens cloaked in dark
the crisp white snow offers guiding light as some dogs begin to bark
through a broken window she swoops with ease to the welcoming garden shed
in the rafters high awaits her nest and comforting feathery bed
                                               by LJM 29/11/2012.