Fifty Swans
The forest is in beauty
with twilight on the water
and upon the flowing river
fifty swans drift . . .
then a whirling sudden sound
of wings beating
above my head a soaring
but soon calm returns
tranquility regained
and a paddling on the blue water
adrifting in the twilight
as fifty swans float . . .
_________________
December 9, 2012
Poetry/Free Verse/Fifty Swans
Copyright Protected, ID 12- 441-576-09
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France
Written for the Standard, Strand Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 12/2012
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2012
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