With plumage of silver and a tale that’s bright red,
You become most vocal when I’m going to bed,
You chatter and whistle with a voice that’s so clear,
You strut around boldly showing no signs of fear,
Shouting my name you repeatedly call,
Paddling in your bath having such a ball,
Spending your time running around the floor,
No one can say your life is a bore,
Your favourite past time is perching on my arm,
Just to make sure i come to no harm,
A great little chap bringing so much pleasure,
My African grey  i will always treasure.