Feathers: Edit number 3!

[billy]

it has a cinderella feel to it but needs to be less in order for it to be more.
the main thing for me that needs working on are the transitions from one part of the poem to the next and they all need to tie together.

good effort.

Thanks in advance for taking the time to read.

Feathers


Girls gathered on the shore,
glassy pebbles dreaming to skim across sheets of blue not sure sheets works well enough without a modifier, also; would dream work better or as well? i do like the metaphor
unaware that once the skipping ends
they will plunge into the murk.
Shaped to seek white feathers, not sure how you got to this point as there seems to be no transition from the previous line
this one captivated with slight of hand.
Faithful to the myth of spring time heart
she curled it like a secret pearl in wide-eyed hands. because of the lack of feather transition i'm struggle a bit with the last 3 lines of the stanza.

The smoke deceived
spoke of warmth, of homeliness
the laughter round the fire a honeyed charm inside her ear. like this line a lot there's a much warmth and friendship in it.
She danced. Slow then fluttering lightly as a bird, why a period after danced, would a comma work better, fluttered is past tense, slow and fluttered sort feel very similar
the grass between her feet had never felt more deliciously like skin. between feet or toes? the last part of the line doesn't quite gel, a suggestion would be [like decadent skin]

His eyes betrayed no menace should they have betrayed menace? why not [his (word/s of choice here to create an image; something like; rhinestone) eyes
spoke only of belonging,
of being a queen among the many bees.
A light ruffle against her neck
the air around her sweet candy floss and apple blossom,
a delicate brush against her cheek, she began disappear.

In a caravan of roses, brambles cutting at her feet
she kept on smiling;
there were embers in the fire yet.
The red flags came but her ears were stopped,
choked with lessons full of lies.

Flames blazed once more but for dishes not for dancing
her fingers scorched against the pot
dirty water marking stains on summer frock.
The feather on the ground,
smokey black with gritty ash
lifting it to cheek she felt it scratch against her skin.