In the soft glow of dawn’s gentle embrace,
Robins sing their songs with delicate grace.
Wings flutter lightly through the waking air,
As nature’s orchestra begins its affair.

Rust-red feathers dance in the morning light,
A tapestry woven in colors so bright.
Their melodies weave through the trees so tall,
A symphony of whispers, a nature’s call.

With each note that echoes across the sky,
Hope and renewal in every sigh.
The robins’ chorus, a timeless refrain,
Bringing life to the world, washing away pain.

In the calm of the morn, their presence is near,
A reminder of beauty, ever so clear.
In the heart of the forest, their voices ring,
Robins in the morning, heralds of spring.