On the lawn, alone

This is the reimagining of a poem I wrote back in 2006 with the same name. You may agree with me in terms of how random and confusing this older version is:

Fancied a show with you my loan,
while he silently approached
encumbered with hate
out on the lawn alone.

Frantic they were on the porch
it's always quiet on Tuesdays
with a cold sweeping bone
that's enlightened and scorched.

Fenced by woodland specters
all on a marsh from the bends;
kill me now you sacred cow
his real name was Hector.

Frolicked to be awakened...
by the bed on Wednesday morning;
he knew he saw it coming
out on the lawn alone.    

This is the new one:

The swift cut grass smells fresh 
while she waits sun dressed and barefoot
on the lawn, alone. 

He silently peers
her flesh and wishes to hold
her limp, marked daffodils–
scattered hands on walls.

Frantic from the porch, familial
bodies move fluidly, a tapestry 
of tempers to thunder
on asphalt. 

She dazes and glides, smile glows
a sun entrapped to dawn
while frolicking in dandies–
no mind to worms
nor storms above. 

He reaches out from the wall,
outstretched tendrils to feel 
his golden apple
but grasps flowers, grasps 
nothing, no hands to hold nor knife
to sew in skin his name his soul
into her design. 

Bodies move in fear 
for their sweet daffodil
but find her bright corpse
dancing alit
on the lawn, alone.      

Comment 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/w8qerb/to_love_and_be_loved/ihr1mem?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share&context=3

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Comment 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/w96rnf/fixing_the_unbroken/ihukwbn?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share&context=3