The blackbird in the garden I know him by his song <br />His voice is unmistakeable one cannot get him wrong <br />His kind I knew many years ago when I was a young boy <br />In a wood that is far north of here even as the crow does fly. <br /> <br />The blackbird in the garden is one I often see <br />Sometimes he is quite silent perched on a bush or tree <br />And sometimes by the hedgerow he scatters leaves around <br />In his search for slugs and worms that are hiding in the ground. <br /> <br />His female a very quiet one I never hear her sing <br />She even remains silent in her breeding months of Spring <br />Her kind I also used to see in feathers of mottled brown <br />In the high wood by the mountain that overlook the Town. <br /> <br />The glossy blackbird in the garden with the lovely orange coloured bill <br />His song to me as familiar as the babble of the rill <br />That to the bigger river down the high country flow <br />His kind I used to hear sing as a boy long years ago.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blackbird-in-the-garden/
