Tuesday, May 24, 2011

A photo log continued...

                Nest Eggs
    By: Robert Louis Stevenson

    Birds all the summer day
    Flutter and quarrel
    Here in the arbour-like
    Tent of the laurel.
    Here in the fork
    The brown nest is seated;
    For little blue eggs
    The mother keeps heated.
    While we stand watching her
    Staring like gabies,
    Safe in each egg are the
    Bird's little babies.
    Soon the frail eggs they shall
    Chip, and upspringing
    Make all the April woods
    Merry with singing.
    Younger than we are,
    O children, and frailer,
    Soon in the blue air they'll be,
    Singer and sailor.
    We, so much older,
    Taller and stronger,
    We shall look down on the
    Birdies no longer.
    They shall go flying
    With musical speeches
    High overhead in the
    Tops of the beeches.
    In spite of our wisdom
    And sensible talking,
    We on our feet must go
    Plodding and walking.

Baby Robins Day Nine

Baby Robins Day Ten

Baby Robins Day Eleven

Baby Robins Day 12

1 comment:

  1. Loved watching these little robins hatch and grow on your blog! They grow so fast! How thankful are we to have our babies with us so much longer! ;)