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.
Thirteen little cygnets, banished from the pond last years little darlings, feel they have been conned not wanted by their parents, no snuggle in the nest its a cold world out there, no wonder they're depressed good one Fay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Swans are beautiful in whatever mood they are painted. But I am sorry for these young Cygnets. May their school days be ended very soon. You write with a very compassionate pen.10.for you. Warm regards, Sandra