The Robin

When we first came
To the place of the high oaks
He was nowhere to be seen.
The turning of the soil
Summoned him, as if
The lifting of the first morning’s eyelid
Summons the sunrise in the East.
His sweet song serenaded us
Amongst the fallen trees
And I knew that he had come.


Thank you again to all my followers and regular readers, and hello to you if you are new to my blog!

There’s an eclectic mix of posts on here, from writing and poetry to banjos and guitars, art, photography and computing, so feel free to dive in and have a look around,

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Go well!

 

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