The Yellow Robin

I'm the friendliest of them all,
When winter comes;
Daily at your door I call
Begging crumbs.
Clinging sideways to a stake,
Eloquent appeal I make.
'Spare a scrap for pity's sake!
 This cold air numbs.'

I will follow as you dig
 And search the dirt.
Worms or bettles, small or big,
 Are my dessert;
And, should you seem gently kind,
From your hand I do not mind
Taking anything you find;
 But I'm a flirt.

For when spring comes to the land
 You are forgot.
I have great affairs on hand
 As days wax hot.
Should I pass you, I pretend
To ignore my winter's friend;
Intimacy's at an end;
 I know you not.

Yet, when winter comes once more,
 And summer ends,
You will find me at your door
 To make amends;
Clinging sideways to a stake,
Eloquent appeal I'll make:
'Spare a scrap for pity's sake!
 Aw, let's be friends!'

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"The Yellow Robin" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 11 Dec. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/6787/the-yellow-robin>.

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