Cheerful Cock Robin was much loved, like a butterscotch sun, creeping closer;
And daily roved the halls of his green mansion, chirping songs over and over.

His home was a fruitful mulberry tree, which may have caused envy in some;
Like stealth cloaked in mystery dark, during sparkling, raven night's stardom!

He lived beside rushing, Green river, and Fly, Fish and Beetle dwelled nearby;
And also Sparrow, Owl, Rook, and Dove, like gatherings of hot pink butterfly.

Other feathered friends were tuneful Lark, fine frocked Linnet, Kite and Wren;
And also Cock, Hen, Thrush and Bull; like mossy seasons-here, and gone again.

Felt roses were fragrantly abloom, when lyric family came for violet dusk visits;
While flourescent moon enhanced the nightlife, along with sounds of crickets.

Cock Robin lived in the house of the wind, where joy begins once you're woken;
And his red coat was loved by ladies; like twinkly, crystal, stars of rare devotion.

Scent flowers were softly stepped on, on his secluded street of beauty's excess.
Silver clouds sailed afar to tomorrow, and eve wore purples hues of empress!

Night melded nicely with silhouette shadows, and numerous neighbors called;
As blithe Cock Robin had a busy social life, like mellow beehive's scented halls!

'I see stars' irises took the night air, during the heat of 'burning hearts' passion;
In a summer of uncommon flower colors, cultivated, and adored to distraction.

'Blue sea' holly loved the roar of surging waves, as 'lemon mint' soaked up sun;
And 'purpletop' blooms wore fragrant fascinators, in the most thrilling season!

Everywhere was stillness when it happened, and golden butterflies had paused;
When the guilty culprit made his getaway, to escape consequences he'd caused.

News of dear Cock Robin's death, sent shock waves through the neighborhood;
And numerous friends gathered. They'd catch the dastardly culprit. They would!

Sparrow, who was new to the beautiful area, finally broke down and confessed;
And was given a punishment that fit the crime, 'ere scarlet sun sank in the west!

There was crying and sadness at his funeral, for a good soul had been taken away;
Like yon multicolored, sunset rainbow, which only infrequently, passes our way!

“Who killed Cock Robin?” “I,” said the Sparrow,
“With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin.”
“Who saw him die?” “I,” said the Fly,
“With my little eye, I saw him die.”
“Who caught his blood?” “I,” said the Fish,
“With my little dish, I caught his blood.”
“Who’ll make the shroud?” “I,” said the Beetle,
“With my thread and needle, I’ll make the shroud.”
“Who’ll dig his grave?” “I,” said the Owl,
“With my pick and shovel, I’ll dig his grave.”
“Who’ll be the parson?” “I,” said the Rook,
“With my little book, I’ll be the parson.”
“Who’ll be the clerk?” “I,” said the Lark,
“If it’s not in the dark, I’ll be the clerk.”
“Who’ll carry the link?” “I,” said the Linnet,
“I’ll fetch it in a minute, I’ll carry the link.”
“Who’ll be chief mourner?” “I,” said the Dove,
“I mourn for my love, I’ll be chief mourner.”
“Who’ll carry the coffin?” “I,” said the Kite,
“If it’s not through the night, I’ll carry the coffin.”
“Who’ll bear the pall? “We,” said the Wren,
“Both the cock and the hen, we’ll bear the pall.”
“Who’ll sing a psalm?” “I,” said the Thrush,
“As she sat on a bush, I’ll sing a psalm.”
“Who’ll toll the bell?” “I,” said the bull,
“Because I can pull, I’ll toll the bell.”
All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll for poor Cock Robin.