Fly Swan

Oh patron of the bardic arts,

Come rhyme, come ride along.

Fly swan upon a breeze of hearts,

And barter hope for song.

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Poetry writing, its highs and lows and frustrations, feels like transfiguring my own feelings and small hopes and despairs into words, trapping a feeling into a verse. This dreamy poem is an invitation- to be syrupy, cheesy, to ‘fly swan upon a breeze of hearts’ and not worry that you might be common, to revel in the common, to sing and flow when you prefer to wallow. Swan is another word for troubadour, or minstrel- so come patron! Tempt your muse! Barter your hope for a song to sway to on the more difficult afternoons.

© Aimee Wood 2022