The blackbird is a bonny bird he has a lovely song
Once heard and seen he is one that you never could get wrong
In early Spring he and his mate build cup shaped nest of mud and moss and clay
In leafy nook that is well concealed three to five green red spotted eggs she does lay.
The gold billed blackbird as dark as coal his song a joy to hear
He always sings his finest in the Springtime of the year
Yet they keep their secrets to themselves of birds so much to know
They eat fruit and search for earthworms in the shade of the hedgerow.
The blackbird is a bonny bird with shrill like warning cry
That when alarmed he utters forth as by hedgerow he fly
His partner is a silent one to sing she does not try
It does seem in her nature to be secretive and shy.
Familiar birds to many and familiar birds to me
In parks, fields, backyards and gardens their kind one often see
In Spring he always whistles in the faint light of daybreak
The blackbird is a bonny bird him one could not mistake.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
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