The Swan
by Stephen Sheridan Boland IV

I look around and I do see
so many colors around me.
They are all really beautiful.
Not even one is truly dull.

Wide skies of blue, tall trees of green.
It's all so wondrous to be seen.
I take in sights across the land
while thinking, 'colors sure are grand!'

And then my eyes do fall upon
A very simple pure white swan.
I'm shocked as it's simplicity
captures my sight and enthralls me.

One color marks this bird of flight.
Only just plain and simple white.
I am confused, I can not see
what gives this creature it's beauty.

Yet I know I can not deny
that as I look into the sky
and see the swan flying up there,
I find it tough to take in air!

I stop thinking and simply stare
as I suddenly cease to care
why it's such a beautiful sight
with it's simple feathers of white.

So many colors stretch so far
and splendid is something they are.
Yet if all these colors were gone,
I would still like the pure white swan.

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