Swanderful

When Summer sunshine heats my home, Too hot for me to stay, Towards the lake I often roam And there swans make my day... They're so genteel, like clouds that float, Like cotton wool with wings And though they can't outrace a boat, My word, what joy each brings... If you could see the cygnets there, You'd nod your head and smile, They glide along without a care And copy their Mum's style... I watch them on my bench alone, Contented as can be, Just hoping that when they're full grown They'll still be there for me... The weather holds, the sun still shines, The silver ripples move, That's why a day like this reminds Each swan has ways to soothe... A genteel pace, what more to ask? At peace beneath the sun, Returning home to face the task Of chores I left undone! Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2013. The poem has been accepted for the poetry anthology Animal Antics, by Forward Poetry UK publishers.