The Robin’s Song

From photos and drawings have I oft known,
their feathers, tail to beak, are boldly shown.
Coated with blue rays, shine from wings enclosed,
mark their heads, deep eyes piercingly unfold.

Their torso, bright orange, beneath teal mass,
an ocean reflecting sunset’s long pass.
Its shape and form, I admire still on,
like the sun and sea converging at dawn.

But now as I look to trees hopelessly,
leaves, barely rustling, sway peacefully.
Although it is hidden, I still bear joy,
for it leaves me with songs, ‘tis nature’s ploy.

Its beauty captures me with profound voice,
never my eyes see it, I still rejoice.

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