A friend reminded me of this old nursery rhyme. My mom used to say it to me all the time. That, and singing “Rockin’ Robin.” It seems appropriate on a chilly Saturday morning for National Poetry Month.
The Robin, or The North Wind Doth Blow
The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
He’ll sit in a barn and keep himself warm
and hide his head under his wing, poor thing.
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