The other day I saw a robin. I know I’ve seen them about before, but it seemed unseasonal. I began to wonder if there was an old country saying like: “A robin seen in July will make them hoggetts fly!” or similar. And then it struck me that I was just thinking nonsense again…
Where do young robins go in summer?
Do they go abroad?
Or do they just hang around the streets,
Doing nuffink and looking bored?
Do their mothers just despair,
About their friends and berate,
Their husbands when they come back from work,
“He’s out again ‘till late!”
Do they suddenly become responsible?
With a nest of their very own,
And Grandma Robin knits red breasts,
For grandchildren at home!
© Baldock Bard 2013
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