Swans

Poem 406 – Reaching for Heaven

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Picked out in Eden’s perfect white, you strain,
with necks outstretched, and reach for heaven’s doors.
Caught in between two worlds, your life is laboured
but here, serene in flight, as in the water;
gliding through the blue, God’s arrow shot,
an elegance outlined by morning’s sun.
Oh, that I could grasp a feather and fly
within this sky-born halo, but alas,
I fear my earth-bound fingers would find no purchase,
but slip right through to mourn what we have lost.

This morning a perfect V-formation of swans flew past our window, washed brilliant white by the sun. I pointed this out to my wife who said she knew what today’s poem would be about…
(25.01.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mathijs de Koning on Unsplash

Poem 265 – Mistaken Identity

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The perfect V, they swam
across the lake towards
our luring hands, for food.
Two adults and their scruffy
signet, a few months old.
Still brown, inquisitive,
its newborn down beginning
to be replaced for flight.
Noisily they slurp the
water where we scattered
the pellets, hissing for more.
Watching their perfect forms
I wondered how one could
be seen as ugly or
confused with a duckling at all.

An afternoon stroll walking by the lakes along Lea Valley to visit our old friends and one new…
(18.08.24)

© Ben Quant 2024

Poem 118 – Queen of the Lake

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In regal array the swan
Drifts serenely across the lake
With proud neck she stakes her claim
Outstretched wings proclaim her place
She rules all that she surveys
Usurpers swiftly subdued

In a bank holiday walk in Lea Valley we stopped to spend time with this majestic creature
(18.04.22)

© Ben Quant 2022

Poem 16 – Swans in Transition

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Spying us across the verdant water
The transitioning signet swims urgently
Dragging a deep dart in its wake
Once brown it’s noble ark now speckled
Flattens, reaching, pleading
Demanding food with a desperate shush

Scattered pellets bob summoning
Mottled siblings and parents to join
The royal throng that turns and tussles
Graceful wings raised in display
Becoming fierce enforcers of superiority
Sharp snaps send snowy feathers adrift

With pecking order firmly fixed
The mature monarch rules the roost
Yet young usurpers yearn for their chance
Raising their wings and wrestling
Until food finished joining those forced to flee
Calming, becoming again the beautiful bank*

Most days we take a tub of swan food down to the River Lea. Over the last couple of days there have been a significant number of swans, including yesterday one parent taking its offspring for a dramatic flying lesson. Feeding them today created a fiercely fought frenzy, most unlike the peaceful demeanour they usually display.

* Bank here has a dual meaning referring to both the river bank and the bank of swans, one of their collective nouns.

(24.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021