The h2g2 Poem

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The White Swan

A snow-drift of quilled feathers,

She lights the fading moon,

Resting her wings,

On the velvetblack cushion of a starless night in June,

A ghost of white rose petals on the waters of the lake,

Trailing opalescent bubbles in her wake,

As the night dies slowly, the new dawn rises slow,

She sheds her ice-white silhouette,

In the sun's rising glow,

No longer a ghost,

She lightens, with changing mood,

As she glides slowly back,

To her new cygnet brood.

smiley - birosmiley - birosmiley - biro

Poetry by Various Contributors


22.02.07 Front Page

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