Poetry Friday: The Swan (by Jack Prelutsky)

The Swan

The stately and beguiling swan
Glides slowly on the lake,
With little but a ripple
In her evanescent wake.
Although she has no song to sing,
No words that she can say,
She’s perfectly exquisite
In her aqueous ballet.

The swan is grand and glorious,
She’s poised at every turn,
Epitomizing elegance
No other bird can learn.
Though some may say she’s just a swan
And fairly commonplace,
She’s positively nonpareil
At demonstrating grace.