White Swan Black Swan
Sleepeth thou darkling,
fade....
How privy thy existence made,
to shade the feathered extremity
thy plumage gave;
a kiss unto pools sleeping
white at noon....
neath bowers in waking rain,
through arbors, dripping and brawn
The black swan returns again,
('tis no shame to love him so)
Seeker of the serfs;
with slow power he fends her,
such flight to beating wing,
to dawn never ending
(seizing watery throne)
Thou art royal among the waters
and scarlet skies make pink
thy billowed white hues;
Little boats of lovers sigh
your white-spirit near
How good omen fosters good cheer ----
How blessed they feel your presence
here,
grace upon the gentle waves
There is black among the pond,
sable Lord from Melbourne;
his speech unruly and red,
Likened his beak with surly scarlet
throngs,
how honest his nature bequeathed
(how darkling his arbors met)
floating in the nestles, watching
with spring-fed breeze
And she to him, a Queen of fair hope:
" Shall I call thee white love? "
said he
Keith O.J. Hunt (C) 2014
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment