robin my blood
oh robin in the tree
one beady eye on me
for the black bug
wings wrapped snug
on leaf of the Lilac tree
under which we drink our tea
to my eldest I turn
and a story is born
dear child keep strong
sing loud and long
yon robin has proud chest
for he sang without rest
to save a princess
It's true. for once the bird was dour
lived in Royal ground. Feathers brown
singing to please the princesses crowd
until. Horror. Illness. Proclaimed loud
'Princess was dying having lost
love for life broken hearts cost'
little bird he loved with all his heart
and by her window a song did start
inside in a week sickly state
to her beat did the tune relate
and morbid promise was made
that it was to be her final refrain.
the bird sang through the day
and through the night. stay
by her and steady stave
no food or drink did it crave.
For on that wooden sill
a dirty splinter a thorn ill
pressed ever closer into chest
of that songbird that took no rest.
slowly the blood began to seep
and single flow set to creep
along the ledge up to edge
of drop onto sickly hair
shocking the poorly girl sitting there
her eyes filled with pity for another
that song of love from red chest cover
over fidelity, hope, courage and caring
that lifted her to desire life sharing.
A rush of her own blood carried her
to pull that splinter from the feather
stained forever red
for a life, by love, led.
'Load a Bllx Dad'