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Swan Of Grace

By: Joseph Cafariello

By Joseph CafarielloPublished 2 years ago 2 min read

Swan of Grace

Women remind me of different creatures

Depending on their special features.

There are fox, cougar, spider and fawn

But none out-charms my graceful swan.

I sit and watch behind tall grass

Her gracious glide on sheets of glass;

With poise she floats across her lake

Such splendid form my breath does take.

She spreads her wings and all stand still

Awed by the force she calls at will.

A simple wave without a sound

And mist and gloom are tied and bound.

Blue skies she opens as she passes

Like curtains draw apart cloud masses;

The sun may now rise up and shine

By her good soul, pure and divine.

A sunbeam spotlight on her glows,

To light her stunning starlet pose;

Upon her shimmering halos hold

Cascading waterfalls of gold.

“Good morning,” birds do sing out loud

And round her ducklings always crowd.

I hear her say, “Good morning to you,”

A voice so warm it dries the dew.

And to her cheer the rabbits play

And flowers always toward her sway;

Gentle, modest, although she knew

This kingdom hers, a Princess true.

I have seen angels reaching down

To simply touch her pretty crown.

They then do know the claim has worth

That one of them lives here on Earth.

Yet I could sense within her eyes

That she is woman in disguise;

And what she needs to set her free

Is the prince that I could never be.

Wonder-struck with every gaze

My heart sings out a joyous praise.

I make a wish and blow a kiss

And pray her lips it does not miss ...

Her soul emits an aura bright

And bursts forth beams of rainbowed light;

Her feathered gown disrobed and pealed

At last her womanhood revealed.

Entranced by unknown mystic charms

We fall into each other’s arms.

I cry, “My Lady, be you true?”

She hugs my neck, “My Prince is you.”

And so it is love cannot hide

From those who learn to look inside;

Who can peer deep where beauty lies

Will transform souls like butterflies.

Yet though she now has flesh like mine

She’ll always be to me divine;

And though she now has woman’s face

She’ll always be my swan of grace.

love poems

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