Waiting, Still

This is an old poem I wrote 9 years ago, I found it the other day and thought I'd post it here.

Robin, Robin! Spread you wings,
Yes, fly away for better things,
And never shall you wonder why;
Or stay to see what Winter brings,

For you can never hear me cry,
Or say your name upon a sigh,
I'm waiting just to hear you sing;
I'll wait for you until I die.

In The End

September breeze- caress my body,
Falling glance- without a sound,
Hold me- in the arms of evening,
Cradled- in the warmth I’ve found,
In the twilight- all is stillness,
Cold and blue- the sun goes down,
Sing to me- in whispered solace,
Bury me- beneath the ground.