The swan

A black crown surrounds its head.
Its body lays in a feathery bed.
It sits in a sweet sea of blue.
Light mist arises and surrounds you.
You feel drops of perspiration roll down your face.
As the sun, a golden eye, shines down heating the space.
The feathered figure raises its wings,
And lifts its head as it sings.
You hear the murmurs of the elegant bird,
And listen in as it can only be heard,
By you and its lovely surroundings.
You take in a breath and taste the scent of sweet things.
You smell the scents of young daffodils and roses.
You reach out to touch the crowned bird, who opposes.
It swims away in wish for peace.
You grant its wish and take no lease.
Instead you pick an impatient flower,
Eager to use its awesome power,
And sit underneath a cherry blossom tree,
To watch the swam soon retreat.





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Duct_tape13 said...
Jun. 30, 2011 at 2:51 pm
This poem was amazing. Quinntessa, you shouldn't ever stop writing, as you have a real gift.
 
Quinntessa This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jul. 1, 2011 at 12:07 pm
Thank you!
 
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