The Wild Swans at Coole

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Watercolour Swans

Picture by Alexander / Adobe Stock
Read for Storynory by Richards Scott.

Supported by Tweetspeak Poetry. Tweatspeak inspires the world with poetry and poetic things. Visit at tweetspeakpoetry.com and be inspired.

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Hello this is Richard

And in a moment, I'm going to read a beautiful poem for the autumn months written by the Irish poet, WB Yeats. Many of his longer poems are based on Irish mythology. This is a shorter poem that describes some swans, and the amazing sound that they make when their wings beat through the air.

And before the poem, I would like to thank Tweatspeak, who support us on Patreon. Most of our supporters are families, but Tweatspeak is slightly different. They run a fantastic website dedicated to poetry, at tweetspeakpoetry.com. Tweatspeak inspires the world with poetry and poetic things - so do drop over there and be inspired.

And now, our poem.

The Wilde Swans of Coole by William Butler Yeats

And that was The Wilde Swans of Coole by William Butler Yeats

A wonderful October poem by WB Yeats. It evokes the bell-beat of swans wings and has a touch of melancholy about growing old

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake someday
To find they have flown away?

I do hope you enjoyed it. We weren't quite sure whether to bring out the brightness and the beauty of the scene or to add a touch of melancholy about growing old and the passing of time. I Practiced the poem, as I often do, giving it different readings. And if you like poetry, you can do the same. See if you can read your favorite poem, in different ways, and find different emotions in it. I guarantee you will learn a lot about poems, language and the spoken word if you do.

And one last time, I'd just like to thank our supporters, Tweatspeak poetry, at tweetspeakpoetry.com. Drop by there soon and be inspired!