Inge Offermann

White Swan

Ride a white swan
through dewed reed
and glistening waves.
 
Drops fall softly
on your head,
and your eye-lids
are touched
by morning light.
 
Still you hide
in white plumes
to enjoy your
swan’s warmth,
but the early breeze
lifts up its feathers,
so you’re shivering
in tiny bareness.
 
Ride a white swan
to the half-moon bay,
dive your body
into golden billows
and splash freshness
into your sleepy face.
 
When you shake off
your nightly dream
in twinkling light,
you are prepared for
a new autumn day.
 
© Inge Hornisch

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Inge Offermann.
Published on e-Stories.org on 07/20/2008.

 

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