Sweet little eyes black and shiny.

Curious with my work, he's chirpy.

Hops and bops about, I trace a smile.

Beak, now agape, sings for a while.

'Rotund little Robin won't you dance some more?'.

'Skipping and pipping upon the forest floor'.

'Red little tummy containing your words'.

'Lost on my human ears, yet not unheard'.

'Little Robin, so happy, why am i not so?'

On little Robin I focus, my mind is sewn

"Be happy with your job" says Robin

"And fret you not of my boppin'"

"There's work must be done so dont you be a'stoppin'!"

"Though i might flutter from twig onto branch"

"My home is left decided by human chance"

"Should we build here or should we build there"

"Words of men against Robin, no matter how fair"

"Sweet little song you qualify my shouts?"

"Without ever considering what they're really about?"

"All I've ever seen of humans is their louts"

"So this boppin' Robin needs a'helpin' out"

"I see in thee good it is true"

"Hope; that never shall you see green land in gloom"

"Yet in back of your mind i see thoughts of doom"

Robin flutters away and I am left to wonder.

Should I leave this world now will I be thought of fonder?