The American Robin Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A tiny egg, a sky-blue gleam,
Inside a nest, a cozy dream.
Made of mud and grass and twig,
By mama robin, building big.

Three to five eggs, so bright and blue,
Warm by mama, old and new.
Twelve to fourteen days go by,
Then little chirps beneath the sky.

Naked babies, blind and small,
Mama feeds them, gives her all.
Papa helps, with worm and bug,
In their warm and leafy snug.

Eyes pop open, feathers sprout,
Soon they'll be hopping all about.
Two weeks gone, they're ready to fly,
Though not quite strong, way up high.

Speckled brown, a hidden coat,
No red chest yet for them to note.
Parents still bring food to share,
Till they learn to find their fare.

Two months pass, a change takes hold,
Speckled feathers turn to gold.
A bright red breast begins to show,
Now a robin, watch them grow!

They'll sing their songs, they'll hop and dart,
Live their lives, a vibrant heart.
Some for years, a few for long,
Singing nature's happy song.