On the swan...

The zigzag motion on the rippling waves,
Mastering of a ballet dancer
And the grace that raised raves
The making of every waltz answer.

The beauty was yet subtle
Of a calm and composed inside
Through every mossy whittle
It danced away to every side.

Peace and serene were the mind
The satisfied glances hither
Where no sorrows to bind
And no scene did wither.

But alas, I missed the struggling legs
The strain and the furious fight
To keep moving across each peg
The vigor and the full throat might

The pressure to keep a cool stance
The worries to hide beneath
We all have our swan dance
To never open the sorrow sheath.