Long Cygnet Poems

Long Cygnet Poems. Below are the most popular long Cygnet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cygnet poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Swans As God's Creatures

Delighted by birds’ coloring books
Awed with stories on biblical fowls of the air…
There’s my special child, unperturbed
Eyes glued to a science book he’s trying to comprehend.

In a guessing game, 
He’s asked: “What birds are these?
Identify using these clues:
Indeed faithful to mate for life; 
male is called a cob,
female partner’s name is pen;
they have a baby cygnet...
As God’s creatures, 
they are highly intelligent
and remember who has been kind to them.”

Suddenly... “Swans,” he shouted with glee
Midst his spastic flapping gestures.
In exhilarating triumph
we all bask in his lingering swan-chorus:
"Who made all the swans so beautiful...
God* in heaven above."

*Isaiah 43:15 I am the LORD, your Holy One, the creator..., your King.

April 17, 2019
9th place, "Suddenly Swans" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy; judged on 4/26/2019.


Shifting Wings Lifted

Canal channel calm
              Calm swan route rowed
              Rowed with your oars
              Oars of square shoulders
              Shoulders I sheltered beneath
              Beneath your wings afloat
              Afloat on luxe lake
              Lake made me safe
              Safe with your sage
              Sage directed my passage
              Passage protected
              Protected from the ocean
              Ocean of troubled tumult
              Tumult groomed off my coat
              Coat you fitted with new buttons
              Buttons you held
              Held securely together
              Together we travesed
              Traversed rivers flowing
              Flowing patiently 
              Patiently picking me up
              Picking up my supplies 
              Supplied my fantasy 
              My fantasy you strove
              Strove to give
              Give without hesitation 
              Without you I'm xeric
              Xeric forlorn flimsy
              Flimsy as a fledgling
              As a cygnet in the surf, helpless 
              Helpless, hapless in danger 
              Danger eradicated
              Exchanged for feathered heaven 
              Feathered my fall each time
              Time I took from you, mine
              Mine to entwine your vigor
              Vigor towards your growth
              Towards seperate ideals 
              Ideal provision
              Provided constant care 
              Care dealt with no cost
              Cost feeble offspring pressure 
              Pressure pulling on your wings
              Wings lifted stretched out of reach
              Reach their own potential 
              Potential to strengthen
              Strengthen our bond 
              Bond of production 
              Producing competence 
              Competent, unburdened 




              16th January
              Degrees of Separation 

              
                  - for Jameille -
Form: Blitz

Chasing the Light

Orphaned by the distant wind
as darkness bathes the dawn
My wings have flown beyond my sight
to catch the cygnet swan
A brother to the foreign soil
lost father to the man
Hearing wisps of memories past
old promises remand
Alone upon a falling sea
in depths my heart bemoans
The water cold inside my veins
fresh images I’m shown…
To raise my spirit from its sleep
and chase the light above
The night relinquishes its grip
and frees the mourning dove
Returning messages of hope
to course before the sun
That shines upon my reclaimed self
—my flight at last begun

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)
Form: Rhyme

After the Storm

It was a beautiful morning,
An ordinary day,
The sun dancing
in the blue sky,
Its light kissing dew off 
from the grass.

Nature stood unburdened
by the weight of night,
The lake lay still,
as if learning how not to move,
Another quiet day of swim lessons.

I was a fearless cygnet
in the presence of a pen,
Then, without a warning,
Night stepped in before the sun could sleep,
Before the lessons could begin,
Clouds gathered like unspoken warnings,
Lightning tore through the sky
as if it remembered something forgotten,
Peace left as if it was never there.

My hope folded quietly inward,
and sank deep without a sound,
I tried to hold on to the spark of light,
But the world turned unfamiliar,
Cold wind pressed against my skin,
silence pressed against my chest,
Sorrow moved through my sobbing,
Tears tracing my face like tributaries,
Something inside me loosened.

Grief arrived uninvited,
It kicked my door down,
Sat to my chest like a 
stranger who knew my name,
and I stopped resisting it,
I allowed it pass  through me.

Now the sky has healed itself,
The sun still rises and dances,
The world still remains round,
The lake still lies still,
But pain have not change it color.

The cygnet moves through deeper 
water now,
learning strokes without guidance,
circling where a shadow used to be,
Water reflects quite isolation,
My guardian angel is no longer here.

The Wind Moves

The wind moves

It moves in many ways

How it moves

Like exotic scents of purple lavender

wafting 'neath a harvest sun

and  the rise of sour yeast

inside a fresh baked currant bun

It moves like a vernal tea-rose

pollinated by wild bees

in forging threesome

or wood-trush wings

rustled through leaves

in a symphonic rainfall season

It moves like the early breath

of a newly hatched cygnet

It moves mysteriously

like a spinning moon

orbiting my little world

Like descending mist

veiling pearled dawn's birth

The wind moves 

It moves in many ways

Like a half -bare shoulder

slipping through your embrace

Like starlit kisses

upon the melanchonic  lines of your face

The wind moves

The wind moves in many ways

How it moves

Just like us 

Just like  me

Just like you


Premium Member I Am a Swan

I was born one day with the glistening sun.
Mom says I am her baby and I have a name;
One of twelve called Cygnet born amongst leaves,
Dad has taught me how to swim and in two days I could.

I am not much to look at right now,
But one day I will be a majestic trumpeter swan;
With white elegant plumage, powerful and graceful,
All day we drift on a slow, undisturbed wetland marsh.

Mom and Dad showed me how to submerge.
I love to eat underwater plants and small fish;
Life so far has been peaceful but one day I will fly.
I weep when I think of leaving my beloved swan family;

Silently we float along in harmony and love,
But I am just a little baby dreaming in the nest;
Just a baby who loves his truly beautiful Mom and Dad.
Oh, and I love my siblings too and the other drifting swans.


_______________________
May 9, 2015


Poetry/Personification/I am a Swan
Copyright Protected, ID 05-671-642-09
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France

Swan meaning - true beauty, power of self, love, grace


Written for the Standard contest, Picture Yourself a Bird, 
sponsor, Andrea Dietrich, Judged 2015

Fifth Place

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