Rondeau

. The Secret Garden Beyond these ivied walls grows naught but heather Gorse and broom, the moors engulfed by blows Of bitter, wuthering wind and gloomy weather. This haunted land is barren, bleak and old. But here---within the gate---my garden grows Warmed by sunlight bright as marigold! Enchantment! Every mum,...

. Rondeau The rondeau echoes its refrain in a subtle way, just as rain at times will fall, not in torrents, but in a fine mist, the wood fence, weathered gray, resisting the stain of water. So, the reader’s brain, lulled, may not at first sustain the expectation and suspense...

. The Lion Who Thought She Was a Zebra a fable East Africa is where this lion’s tale Takes place---a land of rugged plains of grass, Acacia trees with thorns as sharp as nail, And wild beasts of every shape and class: Giraffes and warthogs, elephants, baboons! Egrets and flamingos...

. Our Father loves us, one and all. He lifts us when our spirits fall. He knows the song of heart and mind; He hears the fears of humankind In every earnest, earthly call. He guides us through the grind and gall Of guilt and guile; the devil’s thrall From where...

. The Dove Returned The dove returned! The Earth is dry; A golden sun lights up the sky. This ark shall rest on land again Each creature freed from cage and pen, Each yearning bird released to fly! The old world’s gone. We’ll not decry God’s judgment though we’ll long...

. A Woke Recipe for Disaster a villanelle Heap fresh and zesty chaos on despair. Rub salt in history’s wounds till hatred sticks, Then sugar discontent with bogus care. Pour rage and scorn on free-speech freaks who dare To shower ice on mayhem’s spicy mix. Heap fresh and zesty chaos...

. If He came now, God’s only Son, To save a world that’s come undone Would we continue to defy His truth, to stoke the ruthless lie That claims His name is not the One? His Word torments the twisted tongue With light that blazes like the sun; Would we...

. Still   “Many eyes go through the meadow,  but few see the flowers in it” ---Ralph Waldo Emerson  I aim and shoot with fierce alacrity   As artistry unfurls before my eyes  In all its charismatic clarity:  The  gauzy  glint of scudding dragonflies;A butterfly’s sartorial gaiety  Caught wafting in kaleidoscopic   skies.  I wonder at  God’s windfalls  on the wing  And...

  Where are the leaves that branches bore? They’re falling fast on forest floor, A cornucopia outspread, Of orange, yellow, brown, and red: Reminders of a settled score. Ah this, my gloomy guarantor Henceforth of what I must endure: The dull, the dormant, and the dead. ___Where are the leaves?...

  The Church is Locked on Easter Day a rondeau The Church is locked on Easter Day Despite the stone being rolled away. The Christ awakes to greet the poor But they cannot get through the door To go to holy Mass and pray. Lay folk are told, at home...

  They tried and failed. They’re trying still To steal our freedom; break our will--- The terrorists who torment days With ire and fire and Hades’ blaze. Our bones burn with their evil chill. Their deeds are scribed with Satan’s quill--- Twin Towers Felled! They aimed to kill The Western...

Your Smart Device a rondeau Your smart device was strange and new; It learned your voice and habits too; It played the songs you liked to hear; It answered your requests with cheer, And spat out facts without ado. You didn’t know what would ensue: You need it now and...

Foolosophy I know that I know nothing more than you, for neither of us know a single thing of relevance; I opt not to accrue vast knowledge as the price is danger’s sting. All blissful days are built on ignorance, so I forego the chance to grow aware, maintaining vacant-brained...

Translator's note: The following consists of three poems by Jehan (or Jean) Froissart (c.1335–c.1410), translated not very literally but as far as possible in the original form, with its elaborate repetition and rhyme scheme. The form appears to have been created by Froissart. He calls these poems rondiaus qui sont...

Doublespeak Denial Rondeau Redoublé “Gender mattered a whole lot less to Shakespeare than it seems to matter to us.” —John Irving If I don’t care for words you have to share (a pitch which strips all speech of honesty) don’t force me to embrace all you declare then name and...

The Forlorn Hope—Vicksburg 1863 Back in Vicksburg, the town was surrounded With a battle line twelve miles long. U.S. Grant sought to conquer the city, But the rebel defenses were strong. An advance storming party was risky; They could possibly lose every man. But they must cross a ditch and...

The Fall of the Fourth Estate a rondeau The Media: the Fourth Estate* Performed disgracefully of late: Delivering the news askew, Allowing certain viewpoints through To fuel the discontent and hate. Campaigning bullies will berate The citizens and educate Their friends to start deferring to The Media. All politicians propagate...

The Melancholy Snowman Though stony-eyed, I watched the finches glide. The chimney smoke, the builder slide, At night, I gave the constellations words, The House, the Builder, and the Birds. My silver ear was filled with tree-ish taps, And twiggy fingers twitched with sap, I wondered if the rain would...

  Before the Darkness  a rondeau Before the darkness brings about the night and steals the world’s colors from your sight, paint all your memories in vivid hues. Let not the darkness be the path you choose. Nay! In your dreams, keep every color bright! You cannot halt the fading...

a rondeau Cape Disappointment, battered and distressed, Besieged, beset, by brute-force waves hard-pressed As broad and deep Columbia collides With Chinook-whipped Pacific Ocean tides— Leviathans unchained, their fury unsuppressed. Above the windswept surge of trough and crest A sentinel’s cyclopic eye turns west, Revealing what the fading daylight hides; Cape...

A Life Well Lived a rondeau A life well-lived begins and ends surrounded by the love of friends. The air breathed in and out each lung are signals that songs should be sung, for life’s a blessing God intends A person who can make amends, his honor and his name...

The Fall Revisited The implications of the fall are endless in their reach; that lowly serpent had such gall, Eve's failure to beseech. Though what they chose when they did bite that infamous red fruit was bad enough for God to smite them; He withheld pursuit. Preferring then to extricate...

  I Love This Life a rondeau I love this life in spite of all the trying times and every wall I must tear down to find success, although sometimes my happiness is thwarted, slowing to a crawl. When lofty expectations fall back to the earth, when I feel small...

A Rondeau The big corn field was gone today: A machine crouched amid the fray Like a locust after a feast Near the side road facing southeast— Likely to be gone by Sunday. The corn had turned from day to day Yellow-green to deep green array Then the pallor of...

A rondeau on Shen Yun Performing Arts By Evan Mantyk I love the dance that can exalt The human form without a fault, Demeanor grand, inspiring pose; They’re swift yet seem in sweet repose And all my troubled thoughts they halt. Then when as one they somersault It’s like a...

  Hiding My Glee (Rondeau) Hiding my glee, lest my spouse see the merriment mulling in me. I’ll deftly deflect our next fight by delaying my lone delight that the winner’s my nominee. Elections won’t topple “Team We”: To heal the hurt, I’ll hopefully ponder his political plight hiding my...

Related How to Write a Sonnet How to Write a Haiku How to Write a Limerick How to Write a Villanelle How to Write a Poem Like the Raven by E. V. Wyler Created by French troubadours during the Middle Ages, the rondeau is valued for its lovely lyrical qualities. ...

My Mirror Grinned (Rondeau) My mirror grinned at my first grey. With rearing youth, it’s my first fray. Disturbed, with care I plucked that bane, next day to find one more, again! I cried and sighed and went astray! That’s how began my darkest day with whitest hair and day...

"Games of Gridlock," people proclaim, "court our congress in shifts of shame!" If pay-to-play campaigns unlash a people-to-the-poles backlash, it's our Republic we'll reclaim! On "others" bureaucrats base blame, but their blunders remain the same; with bloated blather they rehash Games of Gridlock! ... Frothy filibusters inflame loathings our lawmakers...

In prison cells our aching calls go nowhere but around the walls, and bruising hands repress our cries, replacing truth with frigid lies. We are the lost. For in these stalls no life can reach. No thought recalls the world outside. We fear to die in prison cells. In jaws...