Swan Maiden

Swan Maiden

By the ancient stream, concealed in delight,
She brushes her long golden hair.
Maiden laughter peals like ritual bells
As they transform in swan skins so fair.
From afar he has spied them,
And stolen the bathers secret place.
In his heart he worships her only
But secretes his adoration from her face.
For while he adores her,
He also abhors her,
Shapeshifting into white plumage free.

His espionage is undone, the lamentation spies the spy,
And he darts to the bank the magic cloak to steal.
Birds scatter, their liberty to ensure, but she
Remains. Too late, her vestment he does conceal.
Transfixed and spellbound they face each other,
Instant intoxication, like Bathsheba and her king.
They lived together at the water’s edge,
But she yearned to soar on the wing.
For while she adored him,
She also abhorred him,
Penned in the pen was not free.

Why weep you mother? Why cry you aloud?
Why wail with discontent?
For father has rescued your pallid shroud,
Wear it and cease this lament.
Swathed in white feathers she took up the flight
And was lost for ever into the dark night.


Linda Price