O stately queen of the marshy pond,
Of mirror-pools and lakes beyond
You rise from the dark depths and mire,
To greet the morning’s solar fire.
With roots anchored deep in the heavy clay,
You stretch your spine to meet the day.
Your emerald pads, like floating shields,
Transform the waves to verdant fields—
A resting place for dragonfly wings,
Where the hidden frog securely sings.
When early light begins to break,
Your tightly folded heart awakes.
Petals of porcelain, pristine and bright,
Unfurl to drink the golden light.
Whether in robes of snow or blush,
You break the swamp’s chaotic rush
With silent grace, a tranquil form,
Untouched by mud, unbowed by storm.
For in your bloom, the sages see
A blueprint of eternity:
The soul that climbs through murky night
To bloom, unblemished, in the light.
And when the daytime shadows close,
You sink back into calm repose,
To dream beneath the starry deep,
Until the sun rewakes your sleep.
*Fair play to AI, produced a poem that isn’t too bad but I want to be transparent of my posts and any that are done with the help of AI will be duly noted.
REFLECTIONS OF A SWAMPER 