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Nigel Morgan
Poems
Dec 2016
The Robin
This slight bird
so oft alone except
in spring when pairs
will flightingly court
in blue-belled woods.
Passerine bird
erithacus rubecula
a thrush-like fly-catcher
diurnal except on
moon-lit nights.
Mr McGregor’s friend
and never to be harmed.
He in winter sings,
she in summer warbles;
both fiercely territorial.
Legend says its breast
was scorchéd red
when fetching water
for those poor souls
dead - in Purgatory.
When the Eternal Christ
was dying on the tree
a robin to his side flew down
and boldly sang to ease
our sweet Saviour’s pain.
And evermore retained
the mark of blood
upon its once-brown breast.
A Poem for my son's Christmas Card 2016
Written by
Nigel Morgan
Wakefield, UK
(Wakefield, UK)
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Kristie Townsend
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