The Swing
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THE SWING (by Jean-Honoré Fragonard)
I swing high up in the air,
Dressed with opulence and flair,
Smiling down at my lover,
Who's glad to nearby hover,
He takes his hat in his hand,
Pointing towards my dress grand,
My left shoe, I gaily fling,
Seated above in the swing,
The 'putti' watch with envy,
As I swing under the tree,
My dog, Whitie, barks with joy,
Adventure flight, I enjoy,
Uncle manoeuvres the swing,
As I fly skywards and cling,
It's a perfect day for smiles,
Swinging high up miles and miles.
11th Feb 2023
Copyright © Joanna Daniel | Year Posted 2023
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