top of page

Little Pigsney

She was a dainty white swan

Once a cygnet, now in full bloom

Her mind wandered into the new


From the warmth of those arms to these scorching skies

The wholesome clasp that embraced, cared and cuddled

The coddling wings released her, the waters so muddled


Blinded from the bling and glimmer,

She was lost in the splendid tints and shimmer

The shade she surmises as the dark, the cocoon saving her from the scars

Prima donna took to be a quad her very own alcazar


The hope in those deep black eyes, the spark that shines bright

Looking for a shred of light, the gleam she saw was a far cry

In those unaltered perennial skies, night had long fallen wide

The naïve little birdie startled comes to cognizance


The discovery of malice and the reek of agony, the pain so intense

Once unwavering, her eyes see the sphere eternally wild, mere pretense

From the cumulus, she looked up to, nimbostratus, the skies so dense


Arms once open wide turning meek

Those that once held her wish to be held indeed

Calming incenses with dismal within

The guarding wings wringing, elixir turning frigid, the nest is in need


Straws that witnessed nascence and the flower

The spring in her life contrasted with their snow shower

From the honeycomb to finding her stars

The pieces collected and embellished, dry spell on the garth


Eventually, back to the waters, it fell into a creek

A sow rushed and clutched on the hunk

The kits playing with it in their burrow

Remnant a flicker clenched, bedecking her tree trunk




Comments


bottom of page