Pachyderm lover

No

Poem (not) to be admired

The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.

They lay. They rotted. They turned

Around occasionally.

Bits of flesh dropped off them from

Time to time.

And sank into the pool's mire.

They also smelt a great deal.

For further information visit
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Neil_Milne_Johnstone