Mute swan awaits her beau,
Though many swans surround her,
Not only for years or decades,
They meet till death do them part.
Willow pursues only her mate,
Albeit other trees confine her,
No matter how far over yonder,
She waits for him for aeons.
No Gold digging or time-pass,
No hidden agendas for gains,
They dream on lone beds,
Of their world about to be built.
The cup of sap filtered with love,
Will never be filled by some other,
They wait, and wait, and wait,
Till they hug in each other’s warmth.
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