in a Swannet poem |
| Let's fly away across the clear blue sky, away from all this raucous rigor, in solitude to restore our vigor, so we can continue with spirits high. We'll ride the wings of a summer breeze, as sunrise troubadour sings a rhapsody with tinted tones shaping melody, floating along above the waving trees. Full of heated air with knapsacks in tow, we drift toward the edge of a new day, where all our dreams are waiting to play in the babbling stream of capriccio. Let's fly away across the clear blue sky, so we can continue with spirits high. Notes on the Swannet form of poetry ▶︎ |