The Avain Year ©

If robin redbreast rules the winter turn
And wren his mate becomes the summer King,
The cuckold cuckoo, then the spring sees in,
Birds fly in autumn short, new skills to learn.
We hunt the king of topsyturveydom,
To pass the crown on to the next in line,
That we might measure well the growing time,
All praise the king that rules our bird kingdom.
But caution well our regicidal lust,
That our short rulers must be warned to care,
This land of promise is a gift of trust,
Misrule will rue and we our hunting dare.
The year is full of gifts borne out of dust,
Praise that the farm man digs the green earth’s crust.