Feed The Birds Poem by sylvia spencer

Birds of Britain, I watch them fly high
beautiful birds as they wing to the sky.
They are a star studded spangle of gracious
charm. A bird on a wing so peacefull and calm.
On tree top high they seem to sit forever
basking and singing in all kinds of weather.
They say the Rook is one mighty crook
but is he, just take a good look. He has a
black wing, I am not sure if he can sing; but
altogether he is doing his own thing.A great big
bird we all know that as a matter of fact he is the
size of a cat.
The larks and the Sparrows to wake you at dawn
and the Blackbird and Robin searching for worms in the
lawn. Birds of Britain so many to be seen; around the
town and in the country green. The Pyde Wagtail with
his feathers of black and white and The Nightingale who
visits when the sun's going out of sight. Jenny Wren who
is Britains smallest bird has the cutest sound you have
ever heard.
Birds of Britain they fly away all to come back another
day. Swallow and Swift they don't stay for long, when the
Autumn comes they are long gone. They journey south then
return in late spring to be just another bird doing their own
thing.Blue Tits and Great Tits they are all part of the crew
and some of our birds are becoming very few.
There are so many birds that need our attention, the list is
endless and there is no time to mention.Nesting boxes have
been pulled down because of the Bird flue scare, so please feed
the birds because they will only become rare