Original

Grip the handle, two hands tight,
lacing fingers, thumbs set right,
Black thin pants, no fabric to stray,
Once wearing skirts, "so yesterday."

Elbows carving chest between
arms and my sight,
Black against green,
butt curving bright.

Lean into the grass,
club tasting the tips,
Swing arching ass
and proudly shifting hips.

Follow through with the twist,
pony tail whipping my face,
Hands at my cheek, tongue on my wrists,
Hold my back arched, leg to the side: held in place
for duration of the ball's glide.

I'll practice like this daily,
Let you watch me in tights,
my curves flexing plainly
for your touch at night.

---

Most of the lines and rhythm of the stanzas just sounded weird to me. This revision attempts to keep much of the same feeling of the words (their intent) but continue the 7 syllable format "sing song" of the first stanza. I didn't want to continue the 'aabb' rhyme scheme as it is an "opening." The bulk of the poem follows 'abab' rhymes.

Most of my poetry does not rhyme; it doesn't need to. I've found challenge and pleasure in finding rhymes and syllables lately. Thank you to fellow steemians that have put their poetry out there. It has been inspiring.

Edit 1.1

Grip the handle, two hands tight,
lacing fingers, thumbs set right,
Black thin pants, no fabric strays,
Once wearing skirts, "so yesterday."

Elbows squeeze my chest between
arms held straight, and aim my sight,
Black thin pants contrast the green,
guiding eyes: butt curving bright.

Leaning deep over the grass,
lined up club tasting the tips,
begin the swing; arching ass
on display my shifting hips.

Follow through proud with the twist,
pony tail whipping my face,
Hands at cheek, my tongue on wrists,
Hold back arched, keep leg in place,
watch the calve curve to the side
while the ball soars on it's glide.

I'll practice here every day,
let you judge my frequent swings,
giving you all lines displayed
form and motion that I bring.