Bridling the Wind -w/edits, sonnet Options

[Michelle]

Bridling the Wind +++w/edits

Her kisses moored her children home in bed
away from whirlpool depths and wizard's ire,
while tucks of linen cooled capricious fires
and feather down allayed each flaxen head.
She tethered dreams to earth with close-knit threads*
from apron strings, for growing up requires
they clamber concrete steps to venture higher;
reality demands its daily bread.

She never gripped a silver spoon until
her children had arrived; she warmed each one
with kindled dreams and forged their hollow bends*
as flat as trowels-- tools that might fulfill
adventures which imagination's spun.*
Her children fashioned stairways to ascend.



* = edited lines




+++original

Bridling the Wind

Her kisses moored her children home in bed
away from whirlpool depths and wizard's ire,
while tucks of linen cooled capricious fires
and feather down allayed each flaxen head.
She tethered dreams to earth with threads
from apron strings, for growing up requires
they clamber concrete steps to venture higher;
reality demands its daily bread.

She never gripped a silver spoon until
her children had arrived; she warmed each one
in kilns of dreams and forged their hollow bend
as flat as trowels-- tools that might fulfill
the ventures which imagination spun.
Her children fashioned stairways to ascend.

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Hi Michelle,

What a wonder! I love the light-hearted feel to this. It gives the children room to roam with imagination and yet anchors them to reality at the same time... and that's hard to do! LOL

A few thoughts... use or lose as you see fit~

Cathy


Her kisses moored her children home in bed
away from whirlpool depths and wizard's ire,
while tucks of linen cooled capricious fires
and feather down allayed each flaxen head.
She tethered dreams to earth with close-knit threads*

Maybe 'hand-knit' or 'handmade' threads. We mothers are the ones who put the apron strings there and we are the ones who have to cut the ties. Course, now that I think about it 'close-knit' does the same thing I guess! *smiles*

from apron strings, for growing up requires
they clamber concrete steps to venture higher;
reality demands its daily bread.

She['d] never gripped a silver spoon until
her children had arrived; she warmed each one
with kindled dreams and forged their hollow bends*
as flat as trowels-- tools that might fulfill
adventures which imagination spun.
Her children fashioned stairways to ascend.

I keep wanting to say 'adventures which imagination has spun' but that messes up the meter. What about an apostrophe s at the end of imagination? Maybe it's just me! LOL

Enjoyed the read~
Cathy