To my Mommy whom I miss more than ever, for her birthday on 21 June: When I read this poem, you were the first person to come to mind. Just like the swans you and Daddy visited every Sunday at the Iller river, your heart never grew cold. You told me how many seasons the swan-pair would recognise you and come for their treat, until one summer you spotted only one swan, without her beloved mate. It stopped coming to you and remained alone, because swans have only one mate. In our minds' eye we behold the legacy of your everlasting beauty; never fading; just like you had to admire the swan from a distance once it's mate had gone. Just like it's mate, you have flown away but your laughing eyes remain in our hearts... until side by side, we can swim again, like The Wild Swans at Coole. The Wild Swans at Coole BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 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 some day To find they have flown away? Source: The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (1989)