The Robin Poem by michael oliver

The cut grass thrown random allows
Single askance stalks - mind jerk blades
Sprung from mowing - a scattered rebellion
Lone claims - defiant - against neat imposition

Nowhere - now - a fluttered surprise
Thrill of wings - crisp - red breasted
In this dewshine sun morning
Not the round ' Ah ' of Christmas

A Robins eye - a Robins beak
Purposes action - hunts - by entrechat ripples
Slick quick - gleans the structure - finds
Then - 'Hello mate'- something to eat