Schooling For Cygnets.

An unusual scene Met me quite recently. Thirteen young swans, in an orderly crowd, Sitting beside the path to their pool, waiting To join in watery fun, - calling loudly, But banished for now from the lake. White feathered, half grown, last summer's cygnets Are now out of bounds when Father's around. He has a new brood of recent begetting, And Mother ignores their piteous sounds. So, settling they huddle, wait for the time When young are protected no more, danger Will then be past, and change will remind Fiercest parents that all need favoursome Room. Yet until that day no way is found For thirteen young swans but hard schooling In patience. Two weeks of hanging around Has made them appear forlorn and subdued. Thirteen half-grown cygnets Now looking for outlets.