THE EDIT - Tidings

Original Draft:

The waves wound through an ocean arch
A portal to a land of sky.
The clouds above were swept to match
The look that lay beyond the lee.

It seemed that in their white and grey
Across the spans of time they'd come;
And we as travelers who'd stay
Swam out to meet the greeting clouds.

The sun then drifted toward the sea
And touched the rocks with flecks of gold
We floated there in worlds blue-green
The glade of light poured all around.

We thought we'd live in that glass ball
Where we were touched by sea and sand
Yet days in paradise befall
Before our lives are blown by wind.

We turn again to early plains
Where wheat-like grains grow gold, then brown
We feel the cold, awaiting rain
And sense our lives turn grey and old.

Originally posted on May 8, 2011 to illustrate my article on rhyme
internal, end, true and slant rhymes are used. Quickly written.

Edited Draft:

Here's the edit. Perhaps still not a strong poem, but hopefully a better one.

The waves wound through an ocean arch,

a portal to a land of sky.

The clouds above were swept to match

the waves beyond the lee.  It lay

beneath the clouds now edged with light.

Across the spans of time they'd come;

balloons of water filled by night--

their lightning shot, no roar of drums.

And we, as travelers who'd stayed,

swam out to meet that other world

where sun would drift toward the sea

to touch the rocks with flecks of gold.

A glade of light poured all around;

we floated free in pools blue-green,

those days, in paradise we'd found

before our lives were blown by wind.

We've moved once more to sandy plains

where seas of grains turn gold, then brown.

The winter's cold, we pray for rains;

our graying lives now old and bound.

(c) Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved * 2011, 2013