The Villanelle
I am working on learning different forms of poetry. Here are two poems that are written in a structure called a Villanelle.
The Truth of We
There is a matter dear to me
Tender purpose I hold close
A place others do not see
Setting aside my own warm tea
To make the meal loved most
There is a matter dear to me
Stopping to tend the growing weeds
I allow occasional boast
A place others do not see
Listening to unvoiced needs
I see a long past ghost
There is a matter dear to me
Watching for the urge to flee
I reach for inside post
A place others do not see
Hoping for the truth of we
To invite my heart to host
There is a matter dear to me
A place others do not see
Lick of Madness
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue
Words have claws and bite
Smoke of sadness, overcome
Return again to be stung
Hold shoulders tight
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue
Knife of malice, slice and hum
Letters twist out of sight
Smoke of sadness, overcome
Endure days, lowest rung
Do not dare to fight
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue
Quiet sorrow never sung
Retreat day and night
Smoke of sadness, overcome
Breathe it now from your own lung
The wettest form of fright
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue
Smoke of sadness, overcome
