Heron in the Swamp

More about Heron in the Swamp

In the swamp, a heron stands,
Graceful and tall in marshy lands.
With beady eyes and feathered grace,
It gazes into the watery space.
Its plumage, shades of blue and gray,
Blends with the marsh, where it doth sway.
Patiently, it waits for prey to appear,
Its neck poised, so sleek and clear.
In the stillness of the murky bog,
The heron stalks with a silent jog.
A flash of movement, a darting fish,
Its beak strikes true, a tasty dish.
Then, once again, it stands so still,
A sentinel upon the wetland's sill.
A solitary figure, so regal and grand,
The heron rules this watery land.