The Gray Shrike Thrushes

The sights and sounds of Spring long gone in my memory i retain
When i visualize the gray shrike thrush sings in my thoughts again
The distinctive and familiar whistling song i fancy i do hear
Of one of Nature's finest feathered minstrels of the Springtime of the year
Not the prettiest of wild birds in his cloak of gray and brown
The feathered minstrel of the wood beside the country town
His kind are not gregarious and as flock birds are not known
But are not that shy of humans and have ways of their own
Birds i have seen and heard often though them i do not see and hear every day
Out of their breeding Season their whistling song with them does not stay
Amongst the finest of songsters of the far southern Spring
To listen to them whistling is such a joyful thing
The gray shrike thrushes the feathered minstrels of the Springtime of the year
Their whistling so distinctive melodious and clear.