22

Behold the two swans as they glide up the river,
Glissading along with such effortless ease.
The hint of a breeze sets their feathers a-quiver,
Swimming or resting wherever they please.

The cygnets are grown, they are out there exploring,
Discovering places where waters run deep.
They splash with excitement when rapids are roaring,
Complaining at length when the banks are too steep.

The fast-moving stream where the waters would tumble
Is calm and untroubled as age-weathered glass.
The crash of the ocean’s a far-distant rumble
And life is serene now as slowly they pass.

The beech trees stand deep in the water’s reflection,
The butterflies dance through the blanket of haze.
The swans have succumbed to the river’s direction
And float in contentment beneath the sun’s gaze.

Through meadows and copses the river keeps winding,
As petulant Spring is left far, far behind.
The sun watches regally, scorching and blinding,
His course, like the river, but vaguely defined.

Behold the two swans in the calm Summer weather
Gliding downstream to the great river mouth.
A long way to go but they’ll make it together,
Tails to the north as they drift ever south.