Todays Poem

Mama Robin pulls a juicy, fat worm
from a green grassy lawn.
She flies away, securing it in her beak
where are you going I think.
I will follow her
but not allow her know.
She swiftly goes between tree branches
until she lands into her nest.
I see you way up there I say looking up into the oak tree
your babies squawking for their lunch.
You drop a bit of worm in each waiting beak
before you are once again fly away to search for more.
A mothers work is never done.


Where ever your Friday leads you, enjoy the ride!

Donna