swans swim silently
gliding on pellucid pond
sun peeks through grey clouds
mute swans paired for life
seven cygnets swim close by ~
the circle of life
Swans
graceful, silent
gliding, bowing, drifting
feather, water, light, sky
shimmering, circling, returning
ancient, eternal
Lake
Carved from dawn's own breath,
two white swans glide,
their wings lifting the quiet
that once enveloped the world in wonder.
The lake, still holding the memory
of creation’s earliest shimmer,
opens to cradle their passing.
They slowly turn toward one another~
twin spirits recalling a venerable vow
spoken before time learned to count.
The reeds lean closer listening to
the ancient winds whisper,
love begins in gestures like this
silent, certain, older than the sky.
A million dollars will shut a thousand mouths.
Forever seal black books.
Seed a million clouds.
Place bodies in swamps, swaying from meat hooks.
And far- far underground.
A billion dollars can buy 10 million souls.
Denature the entire fabric of the globe.
Chase hope and faith down the rabbit hole.
A billion dollars will promptly end investigations.
Turn the lake of truth into a blue opaqueness.
A trillion dollars will turn a bank of swans into a den of snakes.
Visual# 1
Where river bends on waves which sweep
The air rustling mild, I can see
Swans waltzing as dusk gloams to peep
Where river bends
Dressed in lace, how svelte they can be
While night shadows begin to creep,
Birds of grace prancing near each tree.
Bathed by mist, don't they fall asleep?
With zig-zag dance, on eve's marquee,
Plumes winging till morn...so to leap
Where river bends
My mind drifts loose
into the moving art framed by train window.
Houses in the field glitch by—
brick red roofs and windows
that hold sunset across the champaign.
I wonder what it’s like to live
in that world, where you
wake and rest with the sun.
My gaze drifts to clouds
light as swan feathers.
Their dance—effortless, unrepentant
as the sunset dyes them tangerine and pink.
I wonder what it's like to live
in their world, where you
count days with how the wind blows.
——A sharp whistle stole my attention.
The train slowly comes to a stop.
The city busy flickering
neon signs that can give a girl seizures.
I collect myself back,
just enough to function—
The rest can stay loose
with the clouds and the lovely red roofs.
A Pond's Melody
Purrs of swimming swans
Drumming of fish with bladders
Rustling of water lilies
Rippling of waters
Stir up a pond`s melody,
A dulcet boon to the ears.
the trees are hued green
and woodland paths are leaf scattered
twilight touches the water
to mirror the trees and sky
upon gentle ripples
among shore reeds
a group of white swans gather
then
all of a sudden
they rise up
on boisterous wings
above my head
mate by mate
then, calmly they settle
in the distance
to drift on the deep water
mystifying
and beautiful
Swans float on the park pond,
serene, quiet, graceful,
sipping the clear water.
Sun glistens on trees as
scents of autumn drift with
scenes of swans to view; oh
sweet blessed October day !
Smart with their slender necks
Swim and stay mostly in
Serene settled water
Sublime stance paid as they
Stand for grace and beauty
Scaffold sky and sea;they
Sever milk and water
Swans
Shimmering in the sun,
silky skin glides pale ponds.
Secrets spoken to ears,
salty tears leave frail eyes.
Soft air swirls the boat’s sails.
Serene pictures of us,
slumbering at faint dusk.
Symbols of purity
synonymous with love,
swans are monogamous.
Selective pairs dip heads
silently conversing;
swimming in perfect sync,
signifying their bond.
THIS QUILT
This quilt a kaleidoscope of
corduroy colours
a struggle to even
out lucid lovers
cotton wool lies in
bumpity flats
I unravel thread
just like that cat !
Stitches are too loose or tight
corners say alright, so blight
while mantras race in light
“THE GRACE OF
IMPERFECTION TIGHT ” !
So like my country of carnivals
which takes too long in its winter
silent squares want to sing
songs of black swans to bring
Quilt quiet queenly comely !
Can I commence a new project ?
another challenging
lesson to learn
fingers ache sore
sessions to earn
this quilt into deep
sheep sleep
forlorn, forlorn
I dream of yellow
corn !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry
&Song2016
Swans steam across the lake.
Streaming in, heads held high.
Strung out in single file.
Stippling surface with wakes.
Signaling flock to join.
Sensing storm clouds brewing,
Shuddering storm ahead.
Serene lake frames cobalt,
Stirred by rolling ripples.
Shadows of autumn cloud
Sense the swings of white wings.
Soaring ivory fleet
Slowly descends to turn
Suddenly to spry swans.
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