a poem sent to me from a Paternoster author (kind of sweet)

A cheeky robin chirped goodbye

The others all looked sad.

The blue-tits hopped from branch to branch

The goldcrest sang like mad



The black bird did his spring-like best

Even the crows went ‘Cor!’

For no one wanted him to go

They sang of times of yore



They tried to argue with him then:

Debate went thrust and parry;

Even when losing they kept on

And begged him ‘Think and tarry’



Spring and summer then the Fall

He thought long and hard

Made his mind up wrote his e mail

Sent it to the bard



With changing metre, cried the bard

Looking for comfort looking hard,

“Night will pass surely, then comes the dawn;

Follow the Master on to the Morn

Spring and summer then the fall

Then the Dawn Chorus waits us all.”