Uncharted Bends, FV *** Second revision done Options

[Psyche]

One of several versions, newly tweaked. Help welcomed!



REVISION Crits always welcomed.





When I was a child, bubbles and dewdrops
were magical instants in my forever days.
I’d prance to the brief lifelines
of butterflies swarming over alfalfa crops,
giggle at sparrows flapping wings in dust baths,
harken to birds' pecks in luscious grapevines.

Daydreams were true as stalwart
poplars bending to mighty winds
or fields of maize crinkling in breezes.

From the nearby river's edge,
I'd skip bare-skinned into rippling waters
to quench my thirst;
swirling forward under noonday haze
I’d sense freedom in summer’s air
along meandering shores
where flows reversed.

Uncharted bends patterned moist flatlands
alive with sounds of mimicking mutants.

Relentless light shone keenly on my head
as I relished the immediacy of cold water.
Floating downstream on my back, I heeded
the echoing emptiness of the wilds.

Grasshoppers, sunflowers, our sturdy homestead,
-like your hand in mine now that my legs falter-
everything holds enduring truths to a child.

By Psyche

Changes:
magic = magical
Day dreams = daydreams
Solid = sturdy
Down = keenly




ORIGINAL



When I was a child, bubbles and dewdrops
were magic instants in my forever days.
I’d prance to the brief lifelines
of butterflies swarming over alfalfa crops,
giggle at sparrows flapping wings in dust baths,
harken to birds pecking in luscious grapevines.

Day dreams were true as stalwart poplars bent
to mighty winds or fields of maize crinkling in breezes.

From the nearby river's edge, I'd skip bare-skinned
into rippling waters to quench my thirst;
I'd swirl forward under noonday haze,
sensing freedom in summer’s air,
in meandering shores and flows reversed.

Uncharted bends patterned moist flatlands
alive with the sounds of mimicking mutants.

Relentless light shone down on my head
as I relished the immediacy of cold water.
Floating downstream on my back, I heeded
the echoing emptiness of the wilds.

Grasshoppers, sunflowers, our solid homestead,
-like your hand in mine now that my legs falter-
everything holds enduring truths to a child.

By Psyche

Copyright Sylvia Evelyn, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2013.