The Swan who loved Fish

The Swan who loved Fish

There once was a swan by a quiet, cool lake,

Whose heart held a softness no hunger could break.

She’d glide through the water, so gentle, so still,

Her wings like a cradle, her spirit so real.

The fish swam beneath her, all silvery bright,

Flickering softly like stars in the night.

She didn’t chase them, or strike with a beak

She watched them like children, so tender, so meek.

She gathered them close with a motherly care,

Drifting in circles, protecting them there.

From shadows of herons or ripples of doubt,

Her wings would enclose them, to keep danger out.

The fish learned her rhythm, the calm of her song,

And followed her softly, all season long.

She’d dip her white neck like a bow made of grace,

And nuzzle the water, a kiss to their place.

And though she was feather, and they were but fin,

The lake knew a family had blossomed within.

A swan and her fish, an odd, loving sight

Bound not by their bodies but hearts wrapped in light.