Author Laurence Alma-Tadema When father takes his spade to dig, Then Robin comes along; He sits upon a little twig And sings a little song. Or, if the trees are rather far, He does not stay alone, But comes up close to where we are And bobs upon a stone. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 3.7 (9 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments