Robbie Robin thinks of spring,

And the bounty it can bring,

In the lower elevation,

Life was like a long vacation.

 

Summer berries in the hills,

How delicious were these frills,

In the forests by the streams,

Food enough to fill his dreams.

 

 

 

Ah, but what’s that ridge of white?

Yes, it is a pretty sight,

But it means the days are chill, 

And he must come off the hill.

 

Food is scarce, the bugs are gone,

Must be time for moving on,

Back to lower, warmer climes,

And a few more happy times.

 

See my friends around my table,

Eating much as we are able,

Mountain ash is loaded full,

Grab the berries and just pull.

 

Oh, my heavens, see the snow,

I knew I was right to go,

One more feast on berries here,

Then I’ll say, “Goodbye, my dear.”