The re-write of the poem Metamorphosis is proving a much slower slog than expected. I've managed to get the first three stanza's closer to the way I want them, but they're still not perfect. The last three are a jumbled mess. Maybe tomorrow...
by Francis Scudellari
Change engendered with mythic suddenness,
as if sprung from strange god's familiar touch --
whether for fleecing lust or lancing pride --
a re-purposed Daphne, her life transforms...
Crowning, walnut-stained strands turn thickened vines
that whip outward, crackling bud ends a-twirl
to loosed-leaf wrap around her trellised bed
and eager bind her to this dreamed waking...
A bony cage once rubbery encased
dons barky layers -- brittle, gray-notched sheets
that spiral-drop down and scratch uncoiled toes
seeking worm-led passage through soft black soil...
(to be continued...)