[Author's Home Page]   [About the Author]    [News Page]     Welcome:    ---    LOGIN
 Welcome to My Poetry Site      190346 Poems Read



As I stepped from my door - out into the bleak - slate grey -
Of an early  winter's eve -
My senses were bombarded with a sound - more beautiful -
Than any - my imagination could devise - or weave .
A solo voice - coming from the tallest bough - 
Of my old willow tree .
Where - a Robin sat - singing from the inner depths -
Exploding from his tiny frame - a joyful serenade - and revelry .
A choral tribute to the earth - that lifted me above my lonely thoughts 
Into a realm of heavenly Beings - and their Celestial courts .
This feisty bird - no bigger than a sparrow - 
And yet not the same .
With flame red chest - defying nature's harshness -
With its biting winds - and driving rain .
But - with a voice - that spoke in volumes to the elements -
Of which - it had no fear .
Though I am small - it sang - for all around with ears to hear -
I am the master of the winter's acholade -
It's sunless  - cheer .

And by his plucky courage - I too could lift my head 
Above the malancholy - and the dullness of the day -
And sing - a song of grateful thanks - to my REDEEMER 
Thanking HIM for giving me -
This little Robin - and his melody of love -
To show the way .


For anyone who has never heard the Robin sing in winter 
in England - all I can say is - you have missed one of the 
most beautiful sounds in the world .

GOD bless you all today - and always 
with love from Stella x 


Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem

Sign Guestbook Read Guestbook



  [ Poetrypoem.com ]   [ Privacy ]   [Terms ]    [ Start a Free Site ]   [ My Poetry List ]
     ©2000 - 2022 ---------- Individual Authors of the Poetry.   All rights reserved by authors.