Sometimes I wish
my little Samsung had a zoom,
to snoop on this white-feathered
closeting of Swanlings -
just so
difficult to glimpse them between
guardian wings of royal cobs and pens...
and (if I could) I'd dig a photograph
of the cool shaved heads of the Cormorants
as rock-stars witnessed swimming over there -
but then unguessably (sans that quick lens!)
elsewhere
under their screen
of shining green water...
or (with the focus on wee tiny things)
among the skimming pond celebrities
I'd like to spy my favourites
(as dun cotton-wool balls,
hid in these reeds under the walls of
our medieval Castle) - limning
this season's un-numbered
ducklings...
wobbling
by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Just lovely.... wry humour seeps tyvm karen... theres nothing more relaxing tyvm