Frost songs shiver
as sunshine emerges
from misty skies.
Robins, wrens, blackbirds chortle
happy sounds of being alive!
Nightly ice defeated.

Fluffed feathers form
miniature duvets
with wings.
Beady eyes twinkle, like black stars
sharply searching, seeking food,
frozen fast to end.

Such silver songs!
tinkling through air
squeezing music
and hope into a busy day.
Time for joy, sung thanksgiving,
God is to be praised.

Lord of heaven’s angel choirs
had no need of robin
or frosted joy.
For us they sing, yet to Him
they harmonise sweet music
that makes the careless care.

Sunshine sparkles
in frosty air, from gilded perch,
soul-light shimmers.
Lord, if on this morning banquet
I do not feed my hungry soul-
Forgive again, and make the robin sing.

(c) Richard Starling, 2021