Merlin has introduced us to what we will call 'short rondeau' by quoting a piece by James Henry Leigh Hunt:
Hi Daniel,
I don't know if Merlin is kidding or not but, like you, I find it very difficult to believe he'd stop posting just to lay in the sun after offering us that delightful "short rondeau".
If I may, let me continue with another gentle prod in the same genre!
Merlin's Shadow
Merlin’s shadow lies beneath
caught within the lawn chair’s lattice
while he’s letting warmth bequeath
thaw to wintered bones. Sun’s gratis
lured him from the forum’s halls
where promise began a new show.
Absent now, Spring’s sunlight calls
Merlin’s shadow.
Larry
Thanks for the heads-up on L6 & 8 rhyme.
I don't know whether to say, Bravo, Larry!
or
Hear, Hear, Merlin!
deLightingly, Daniel
Chopping dandelions’ heads
from the back and front and side lawn;
but I know and now I dreads
their return, most likely new dawn!
How the sun shone loverly,
bucket, pick-ax, both were handy;
music played, tho clancularly,
Chopin dandy.
What an absolute delight to read these four submissions, I am now inspired to have a try at this form of poetry. Thank you
Cheers
Maureen
Well, We’re Waiting!
Maureen muses, try her hand
writing rondeaus in this short style.
I think this might be real grand
make Merlin, Daniel and me smile.
Climb aboard these rondeau trains
though their missing their cabooses
but this question still remains…
Maureen's muse is...?
Merlin & Daniel, thanks for the correction in form!
Well Larry you asked for it - wait no more - Maureen did. I liked your poem no ones every written one for me before. Be still my heart
NOW SUMMERS GONE
Summers gone, winter approaches,
mornings now are cold and crisp.
Dew lies heavy on the grass
and sun comes late. Merely a whisp
of mist still lingers
trapped in hillside valleys deep
hidden from wan sunlight fingers.
Summers gone.
Maureen Clifford © 05/13
Summer’s gone? It’s just arriving
after cold and lots of snowfall.
Time has come for tan-reviving,
swimming, fishing, playing baseball!
Ozzie folks, another tale –
winter time is coming on;
get your woolies, they’re on sale…
summer’s gone!
Daniel wrote a short rondeau
wanting folks to criticize it,
come-on, then, and don’t be slow,
make it fair – don’t compromise it!
Cross your eyes and dot the tees,
note or quote, promote, connote
anything from eh? to zzzzzs
Daniel wrote.
Larry jumped into the pool
where you find the poets swimming,
grabbed a thread, a silver spool
and began his sewing, trimming
here a little, there some more,
never baffled, never stumped
till he had the proper score…
Larry jumped!
Planting Rows
Planting roses now complete,
Merlin dropped in for an hour
joining in this rondeau treat.
Yard work stopped by passing shower?
What had blocked his bath of sun?
He's now back to poems and proses
with reports of how much fun
planting rows is!
Oh thats a great word play Larry - well done
It always seems weird Merlin that the seasons are opposite depending on where you live - our traditional Chiristmas celebrations usually take place on beaches or in back yards in sweltering heat and not a skerrick of snow to be seen anywhere and yet we still cling to the tradition of sending christmas cards with snow , holly and red robins on them although to be fair I suppose not so much these days.
You excelled yourself with not one but three new rondeau
Cheers
Maureen
Uncrit Tickle
No one's offering critique,
but of course the thread is growing.
In this forum, that's unique,
though our Karnak wind keeps blowing,
bringing Merlin back inside
to lay out wise observation.
Masterfully his words will chide
no one.
© MLee Dickens'son 2013
Maureen...
Thank you so much for spurring us on. We hope that you'll continue joining in the fun [though likely Lori may soon intervene here and transplant this thread into a new one in Karnak called "Short Rondeau" !!]
Overheard Down Under
When it's spring, it's autumn there
in South Africa, Australia.
While we beach, it's snowing where
you are living, so we'll hail ya,
wishing you a cozy night
snuggled with a book for its zing.
Fall comes as your heat ignites
when it's spring.
© MLee Dickens'son 2013
Mock Critique
Merlin's mocking, but I'm happy
he has not put down his pen.
When you challenge him, he's scrappy
proving he's no handyman
but a master writer, friend,
sharing insight, often shocking.
Thus with joy I comprehend
Merlin's mocking.
© MLee Dickens'son 2013
What an interesting variation, Daniel and Eric!
I shall give this a try (next week as I am traveling for a few days).
Cheers,
~Cleo
Now that our “shorts” are nicely in place, I’ll come along and make a small correction to the “rules” above.
The rhyme scheme of the short rondeau is this >>>
[A]bcbcdadA.
The first “A” is the opening phrase of L1, which becomes the repeated refrain (“R” sometimes) or rentrement in French.
Important to note is that this “R” rhymes with L6, which makes the 2nd quatrain rhyme dadA.
There is almost no end to rondeau possibilities. Rondel, roundel, roundelay, triolet, virelais, chant royale, and a variety of others exist. Repetition is required, and most often, line lengths are equal, usually octa- or deca- syllabic. You are completely within your rights (or tights) to bend or break the rules!
Thank you so very much, Eric! I think I've taken care of my explanation in the opening of the thread.
Please let me know whether you concur!
I Bow Corrected
I'm corrected; now I've said
differently what you've observed.
Hope it now has trued the thread
so our readers will be served.
All my short rondeaux's line six
now I've also redirected
slightly, so what needs a fix,
I've corrected.
© MLee Dickens'son 2013
We pass the plate from here to yon
and fill it full of rondeau lore
so poets now can chance upon
a wisdom bit long hankered for.
Now virelais, I say to you,
go to the pen, unlock the gate
break out the rondeaux true or blue –
we pass the plate!
Posted
I've posted now the http://forums.mosaicmusings.net/index.php?showtopic=15965
so please correct what I have shared
before the others come to play
and by mistakes become ensnared.
Please drop in soon so we can chat
and you can quickly disavow
the the truth of my instructions that
I've posted now.
© MLee Dickens'son 2013
Hi Daniel,
I read the thread (just a snippet) of the new form and Merlin's answer. Not capable of speaking French or Spanish, I'll stick with what is now referred to as "English". I've never even heard of this form so I've never tried to write a "Virilei" but my twisted mind thinks it might be what women look for in a bed partner (virile lay). I'll be back to that thread and give it a try but it won't be in the next few days because around here, life (or in this case, death) happened. One of my wife's last surviving aunts died Saturday and so wakes and funerals are the current concerns around here.
I went back and corrected the L6 rhyme error in my earlier "short rondeau" posts but not before the meat of this following post popped into my head.
The Rhea Ranger
Please don’t tell me it’s not right;
I don’t want to do it over.
Ending words would be in plight
as would be the rhymes I wove her
‘cause she’s just a short round O.
Rearrange too much and you’ll see
puzzle pieces will not fit, so
please don’t tell me.
Larry
We have no plate to pass just now;
perhaps a hat would do?
I'm glad that you have showed us how;
I tip my hat to you.
Let's hope that Lori will chime in
if she can concentrate;
but I've no money; things are thin.
We have no plate.
I’m oh so glad you’ve brought it back
into the realm of current fare;
for skill in short rondeaus I lack
but brain is not entirely bare.
I hope our Lori will chime in
and Maureen, too, will want to add
something which will make us grin.
I’m oh so glad.
When Maureen comes, I too will smile!
Perhaps some others will join in
and learn to be more versatile...
while giving us a little grin.
We know that Lori always peeks
and sometimes comments, gives two thumbs,
so will it bring red to our cheeks
when Maureen comes?
I wait but no one comes and plays
or banters words; a posting drought?
No lines of wit to paraphrase
their fleeting thoughts or write about
the dreams and wishes in their hearts?
Please share those things you contemplate
before the "Short Rondeau" departs.
I wait!
I waited for nearly 11 months and no one showed up so like Daniel, I'm bumping this to the top.
Two Guys
They are two guys who may be wise
but have one common malady
which never visibly impairs;
it’s their genetics, probably.
They feel reiteration dares
to stress the thoughts they would impart
so first and last they emphasize.
Each named Ron Doe, the long and short.
They are to guise.
Larry
When we're disguised in foreign form
our job becomes to give it grace
and not concoct something lukewarm
that merely clogs the paper's space.
We'll purposely relax to show
we're capable, precise and wise.
If we're successful, they'll not know
when we're disguised.
Confusion reigns when taught new forms
especially when not astute.
Dissimilar instruction harms
my writing and my brain to boot.
Please tell me which one is correct
so I'll comply and cause no pains
to other writers. In effect,
confusion reigns.
Here are the two different rhyme schemes posted for this form on prior posts.
Abab cdc R of A (d)
[A]bcbcdadA (9 lines?) This is why I had 9 lines in my last post.
Help, Daniel!
Larry
Well, Larry, we'll need Merlin to either clear up his one post... OR correct all of his short rondeau examples to have nine lines, since all of them have eight!
If Merlin speaks again, perhaps
he'll make corrections to his post
explaining how he'd had a lapse:
he visited and diagnosed
the rhyming "d" from rentrement.
Methinks he goofed, so bracket leaks
from second "A". Ask what he meant
if Merlin speaks.
On all of those the lines are eight
but Merlin's post: "corrected form"
made me consider that a spate
of short rondeaus were not the norm.
So I wrote one I hoped would match
his new example. Merlin knows
it may be hard to put a patch
on all of those.
There's but one need to patch; it's his;
a bracket's missing 'round the A.
His explanation's lacking fizz;
perhaps he figures, What the hey!
At any rate, the lines are eight,
and if I'm wrong, we've sown the seed
for Rondeaux Bref, and to our spate
there's but one need.
One needs a butt; gluteus max,
to cushion falls for it, alone,
keeps legs and back and your thorax
from simply falling in the throne.
Keeps pants around your waist and is
a counterbalance to your gut.
I’m happy there’s a hers and his;
one needs a butt.
When needs abut each others' lives
it's healthy when we compromise;
if selfishness again revives
it spurs a greed that underlies
what's hidden deep inside our heart,
too often causing love to shut
its door to what it could impart
when needs abut.
When needs abate and there is naught
but greed and want to guide a hand
in taking anything that’s sought
without regret or reprimand
then anarchy will be the rule
and lawlessness will be our fate.
I think I’ll handle it “Old School”
when needs abate.
Who needs debate when we maintain
communication in a home
that's filled with love and rules are plain?
Seek charity and never roam
along those broad and crooked streets
where darkness looms and folks berate
what's good and decent. Love competes;
who needs debate?
Who needs the bait when dynamite
will catch more fish on any day
and it won’t matter if they bite.
Just light the fuse and then filet
the big ones floating to the top.
While smaller ones fit on the plate,
larger is nice. Light fuse and drop.
Who needs the bait?
My knees debate: Can we support
his weight if we stand up today?
Would we ungracefully comport
ourselves? Perhaps we'd best display
uncertainty, stay on our chair?
I want to rise. Is it my fate
to lounge all day? So is it fair
my knees debate?
My needs abated with the sight
of homeless people in the night
with none to care or succor them
like long ago. They, just like Him,
were left with naught but lowly fare.
I beg the world ere it’s too late
to think what Christmas means and share.
My needs abate.
My niece’s braids are long and blonde
but when she wants to brush or comb
they fall to shoulders or beyond.
Hawaii has become her home
where she builds houses nice and cheap
from palm tree leaves and stout grass blades
wherein the tourists love to sleep;
my niece’s braids.
Midas abrades, with just a touch,
his subjects who don’t wish to work
and make him rich. They are in dutch.
When duty calls, those who would shirk
the opportunity to make
a living wage will join parades
of golden statues by the lake.
Midas abrades!
My ducks parade around the pond
to eat the special food I make
and hardly ever go beyond
except for that old Mallard drake
who fathered all of them with pride.
He waddles to the barn and wades
through the ingredients I hide.
My ducks’ pa raids.
Three geese -- Canadian no less --
have joined the chickens on our lawn.
The turkeys stay away and mess
the field that they now trod upon.
From time to time a deer may peek
amid its daily walk caprice
to catch a sight of our unique
three geese.
Catch sight of your unique three geese?
When, may I ask, did they appear
and does their honking steal your peace?
Don’t name them for that would endear
them to grandchildren, make them pets
and on each holiday they might
be the entrée you see each gets.
Catch sight!
No names... and now somehow they're four;
Another one showed yesterday!
They're grazing right outside my door;
it looks as though they're here to stay.
My son's an expert with his bow
so your suggestion that a feast
should feature them means we'll allow
no names.
Goose Stepping
A goose is much more than a bird
which some might cook for holidays
or wondrous meals. I’ve always heard
they act as guards in special ways
by sounding an alarm. They’ll chase
intruders who can’t shake them loose.
One thing you don’t want in your face…
a goose!
Daniel, aren't L6 and L8 end rhymes supposed to be the same? Suggest ending L6 with "their fame".
A rooster can be docile too
enjoying your visits with food
that you offer him 'til he accrues
his fill, and then he will conclude
friendly mixing, beginning to strut
'round the grounds 'til he's gotten your goat;
soon you realize you cannot butt
a rooster.
A rooster’s rule of free-range hens
may last while it is young and strong
but with no progeny it ends.
A sterile male does not belong
on any self-respecting farm.
Most everyone I know concurs
that servicing the flock’s the norm.
A roux stirs!
Larry... sorry for my previous two disasters. It appears that I'd forgotten to rhyme lines 6 and 8, as you duly noted!!!
A gravy's stirring in your pot;
is that the rooster in your pan?
Just yesterday, who would have thought
that we'd be eating cock cayenne?
A fox attacked the chicken coop
and didn't give us time to wave
goodbye to future chicken poop...
a grave
A grave is difficult to dig
for its dimensions are precise
and without care becomes too big
or much too thin; a coffin vise.
I’d rather plow a nice big field
for vegetables I eat or save
depending on the crops and yield,
ag rave!
You could be digging your own grave
if you are eating vegetables;
you think it's how you should behave,
but are they good comestibles?
Insecticides are sometimes used
and oft are not washed for your good,
so you may better have refused;
you could!
You could believe in anything.
depending on your place of birth,
of who or what supreme being
created you and formed the Earth.
If Hindu, watch what you may do
in harming creatures; and you should.
You may come back a cow and chew
your cud
A sacred cow you will not be
after you've wandered off the earth;
I will not say, Just wait and see,
but death comes forth with life from birth.
We live our lives and then we die
awaiting Christ's return; we'll bow
before him, and no one will ply
a sacred cow.
A sacred cow is merely food
to hungry people on this earth
but India will find it rude
to harm the beast though there’s a dearth
of things to eat. The billion souls
consume white rice and fish filet.
Just give poor folks with empty bowls
a say.
Poor folks with empty bowls increase
with every passing year it seems;
will world-wide hunger ever cease?
is it the stuff of empty dreams?
We send more food across the seas;
corruption grabs its share and chokes
the distribution, never frees
poor folks.
Just pour some folks a nice cold drink
or coffee when they come to call.
They’ll be more thankful than you think
and won’t mind coming back at all
so if you want to be a host
there is one thing I would implore;
if you’re the friend they like the most
just pour.
If you're the friend who has the most
your guests expect a special treat;
you can't get by with tea and toast
but must throw in some breakfast meat.
Not every gathering needs food,
so you may work to get them weaned;
but some my not see you as good
if you're a fiend.
Though some may not see me as good,
I am no fiend or wish to be
so let that fact be understood.
I do what morals ask of me
and sometimes try to do much more.
I give the best that I have got
and great extent I oft explore
though some may not.
That great ex-tent I oft explore
discovering its canvas use,
re-purposing,.. no amateur.
It will not fall into disuse.
With part of it I drag my leaves;
for painting, it is not mis-spent;
to catch the rain beneath the eaves...
that great ex-tent.
To catch the rain beneath the eaves
is laudable for when it pours
it is a blessing man receives
and wise is he who saves and stores
each precious drop for dryer times.
There are some places which remain
a desert. Folks wish in those climes
to catch the rain.
When in a desert, folks can't climb
to higher ground to feel cool breeze
or see the snow, sunset sublime,
sit idly by beneath the trees.
No rest from heat, no water cool;
at night it's cold. You can't convert
it to the day. You feel the fool
when in the desert.
When in the desert you may feel
quite foolish in the sand and heat
although you thought it was a thrill
to climb the dunes in your bare feet.
Now they’re both burnt and I suggest
you be prepared ere you begin
so they’ll feel good in your ice chest
when in.
Ice chests are not a place for feet
to be for long, because your toes
will fight each other to compete
for warmth so they will not be froze.
Cool water is sufficient for
their health, and then too no toe bests
the other; so please have no more
ice chests.
No more we have others to please
in our small world of give and take
nor do we pander to appease
the few who visit here. We make
some rhymes and puns that bring us joy
or sometimes groans when we explore
new forms. There’s few we will employ
no more.
Will we employ a poet here
or must they write like us for free?
No pay; I'd say it is quite clear
since there's no such for you and me.
But who knows what the future holds
down here? We hop from toy to toy
to play. What trick to break the molds
will we employ?
What tricks we play to break the mold
of normal poetry that’s read
in books and on some sites, I’m told
but never joined them for I dread
they’ll want me to remove the mask
I wear. I’ll go with fewest clicks
to MM’s halls where no one asks,
what tricks.
Yes, no one asks in empty halls
deep questions or the shallow ones.
We never sponsor gala balls;
no one would come to hear our puns.
We hope some visitors may stay
to share their poetry and show
us more critique, so we can say,
"Yes. No."
No more critiques so we can say
goodbye to polishing new pearls
and spend time on poetic play.
No trimming off the errant curls
of phrase and wit that others post
who think our help’s elite and poor
like many other sites that host
no more.
Critique is hard to give and take
when we're not face-to-face to see
compassion while we try to make
our observations. That would free
the tension that will sometimes come
with words writ by a caring bard
misunderstood. Alas, for some
critique is hard.
Misunderstood; alas for some
who feel their poetry complete
and care not for the proffered crumb
of help although it is a treat
experience can share with those
who might request critique which should
improve their poetry and prose.
Miss understood!
Improve your poetry with pros
who offer help to tighten lines;
to grasp their insight, I suppose,
is self-maturing and defines
the future of a laureate.
But listening's no guarantee
that you are great; no boasting, but
improve your poetry.
No basting, but that ewer grates
upon the shelf where it was placed
in readiness, my sauce awaits
the brush. I barbeque to taste
but only on the ribs and chops.
My butcher has the finest cuts
of meats; but barbequing stops…
no basting butts.
Whose nose can't smell the beef and pork
that's barbecuing on the grill?
I grab some chicken with a fork
'cause it is done. This day's a thrill
to be outside with family
beside the pool; today we'll tell
our Uncle what food's savory --
whose nose can't smell.
Whose nose can’t smell the barbeque
or all the trimmings that are served
on Independence Day are due
an E. N. T. check-up. Unnerved
am I for those who’ve lost this sense
though it’s not rare but I suppose
it can be cured with great expense.
Who knows!
Ears, Nose and Throat, or E.N.T.
refers to doctors practicing
otorhinolaryngology.
They help you hear and smell and sing.
Wife's ENT just called us here
and woke me up. Do you like those
reminders of appointments? Fear
ear knows!
Reminders of a point meant fear
for time you’ll spend in dentist’s chairs
and Novocain in jaws not rear
will bring a lot of pain and scares
the weak of heart. You need your teeth
for if you keep them nice you’ll find
you will not have those underneath
re-mined.
You will not have your underwear
if you are operated on
to fix your anus; it is bare
when doctor stitches with elan.
So keep your pants on; when you must
go potty and you think you're caught
with messing them and think you'll bust.
You will not.
Messing with busts, you’ll think of them
and how they’ll look when you get through
with clay or granite you must trim
to match the visage you imbue
but if you speak mammalian
and all the joy which they might bring
you’ll know your touch is just right when
miss sing.
She thinks your touch is just so right;
she swoons just thinking of your hands.
She knows that you will hold her tight;
you've given her those wedding bands
reminding her you love her so.
You've always loved her knowing winks;
she'll ever use her brain, ergo
she thinks.
She’ll ever use her brain to go
it on her own without a care
due to your guidance. She will know
a knowledge gained which she can share
with anyone who wants to learn
a way through life all may receive
and if this lesson they might spurn,
she’ll leave.
Your lesson writing short rondeau
is, First decide the closing line,
then open with it in a show
that you are someone with a spine
who won't lose focus in the end
because you're writin' while you're dressin'.
be sure the shortie here has penned
your lesson.
that’s “shorty”
The shorty penned here has a sure
but simple form which one must keep
so all the Short Rondeaus endure
and benefit writers who leap
from regular Rondeaus. The change
is difficult but if you’re smart
you’ll twist a phrase and rearrange
the short.
To twist a phrase and rearrange
the words a bit is what we do;
to others it appears as strange
and often make a hoop-di-doo
about our writing, but who cares?
Our rondeax come with rais-ed fist
that causes multimillionaires
to twist!
That cause is multimillionaires
who have agendas of their own
and squelch the politicians cares
with money voters don’t condone.
New laws are passed that fit their need
by writing in a hidden clause
and there are none who dare impede
that cause.
The pants you wear cannot impede
the liquid that resides inside;
with age some shorts become in-peed
and that's a fact that's hard to hide.
Long shirts can cover many things
like wet spots that your wee-wee plants
and bulging guts your body brings
to pants.
The guts your bulging bodies bring
to gyms is fat which stays in place
and everything just seems to cling
then you might liposuction face.
Your choice of swallowing those chews
of pies or cakes and favorite cuts
can be left off if you can use
the guts.
Leave off devouring all those pies
and cakes and pastry till you burst
then eating anything your eyes
desire like you've become accursed.
If you can simply shut your mouth
when you see that you've had enough
you'll watch that fat that hangs down south
leave off.
© MLeeDickensson 2017
Down South your watch that’s fat and hangs
to parts which you might think are safe
below your belt will cause some pangs
when swinging like demented wraith.
Your vest has pockets you should use
for golden chains; the word of mouth
is shorten it. You won’t abuse
down south.
Abusing short folks isn't cool
on days like what we're having here
unless you throw them in the pool
if they don't have a drowning fear.
In cut-off denims, weather's fine
and in the pool your dwarf cavorts;
your scissors were not out of line
abusing shorts.
Your sisters were not out of line
with words to put you in your place;
in fact, intentions were divine
as though they came from God’s own grace.
Experience with boys your age
helped them to raise you; one of His
with hopes of one more pristine page.
Yours is!
Pristine describes my page these days
since nothing there appears at all;
I've tried to write in many ways;
my muse's engine's in a stall.
At times a word or two contains
research, but then they fall between
my thoughts, so paper now remains
pristine.
Safe Keeping
My thoughts on paper now remain
within a box that’s sealed, air tight
to ward off fire or moisture’s stain
and safe from degradation’s plight.
Although technologies afford
with cloud or disc that can be bought
a safer way; that box will hoard
my thought.
A Safeway grocery store is where
we shopped when I was very young;
In junior high I dropped in there
in back to see what they had flung.
I'd never eat what wasn't wrapped,
like cookies they and thrown away.
When I was done, went home and napped
safe way.
P.S. I never really did that; it never occurred to me!
Fountain of Youth
When done with naps and home I went
into the woods where I commune
with nature when there’s just a hint
of Autumn in the air. Too soon
and Summer’s heat burns up the joy
as animals hide from the sun.
Refreshed, I feel like a young boy
when done.
Fountain of Youth?
Ah, refreshing... he drank from canteen
after time on the trail; he drank more,
and though it was not cold, it was clean
since he'd gathered it fresh from the shore
of the mountainside stream on his trek.
Now a pain in his groin was enmeshing
his nerves all the way to his neck...
Ah, refreshing.
Nervous Rex
His nerves way up into his neck
were sensitive when he was young
so fearlessly said, “What the heck!”
when on patrol; way out among
rice paddies and the jungle heat.
Respect for everyone who serves
was not the norm and pills now treat
his nerves.
Pilloried
My pills now treat the maladies
of age and time, cholesterol;
and my blood pressure does not please
the doctor that I have at all
so now I have to take great care
to hide them from kids seeking thrills
for they’re expensive. I don’t share
my pills.
Heavy Debt
It's so expensive, I must cut
away some pounds from off my hips
and also off my gut and butt.
I've eaten too much chips and dips
and haven't exercised at all.
My therapy is quite extensive:
stretching, pushing on a ball...
and it's expensive!
futility
You’re pushing on some balls that stretch
those muscles which you’ve hardly used
until it seems like you could retch
and your poor body feels abused
but you persist in exercise
to lose some weight, gain younger tone;
shed inches from your waist and thighs
you’re pushing on.
Waist and Waste
My thighs and waist are out to shape
so every exercise is pain;
if only there were some escape,
but I must do each rep again.
My muscles left some time ago,
so they will not return with haste.
It doesn't take too much to show
my thighs are waste.
Friendship
“Too much to show?”, it doesn’t take
but moments to discover how
a whisper soothes the soulful ache
of friends in need and will endow
them with a smile where laughter wraps
their heart and loosens sadness’ clutch
to fall like dreams. Is this, perhaps,
too much?
Daniel, I combined the answer to your short rondeau with the X10 Oct 31 challenge.
snow big deal
To fall like dreams, a snowflake drifts
on high amid opposing streams
of air that bring the autumn's gifts
and spread them 'til the landscape gleams.
A glimpse of winter after heat
that's baffled all our football teams,
the crystal-white blows 'neath their cleats
to fall like dreams.
salty advice
The crystal white beneath the snow
is melted and refrozen ice
that’s covered up and you don’t know
so you may slip and pay the price
of ambulance and doctor bills.
Mind every step or face your plight
if you don’t use the salt that spills;
the crystal white.
Ready to Eat
The salt that spills beneath your feet
prevents your falling on your arse
or slipping on the ice and sleet.
Be sure the spreading isn't sparse.
The weather's gotten cold and wet
Dress warm so you won't get the chills
then lay before your luncheonette
the salt that spills.
diss 'em in ate
Before your luncheonette you lay
a menu out upon the walk
and glue it there so it will stay
with arrows drawn in colored chalk
which may attract folks to your place
but offer Wi-Fi while they munch
to bring them down from outer space
before your lunch
Time to Eat Crow
To bring them down to dinner, you
must tell them that it's supper-time.
Communication is askew
when you don't face the daily grime.
When you act like you're better than
your guests, like you have great renown,
you must become a humble man
to bring them down.
effort less
You must become a better man
to be successful in your life
and not a simple also-ran;
if not for you then for your wife.
Be purposeful and do your best
for second place eats lots of dust.
Try to be better than the rest;
you must.
A Wood-be Brute
A two-by-four's among the best
offensive weapons you could use
to club someone with joy and zest
and mutilate with blood and bruise...
if you're a brutal man, of course.
Since you'd not have your friend so sore,
you probably would not endorse
a two-by-four.
dance card
You probably would not endorse
a game of cards in some back room
or off-track bet placed on a horse
unless you were friends with the groom
because they’re all a game of chance
and lady luck can’t hear your plea
so folks don’t take her to that dance.
You? Probably!
You Think I'm Kind?
I'm not that kind who'd do the dance
in some casino, at the track.
I seldom play a game of chance
and never bet; I've not the knack
for taking money in the fray.
But someone hits, I'll hit 'em back.
I'm not that kind!
P.S. I really am kind; I don't hit back
good sport
I’ll hit them back if they land in
the singles court. Those bouncing balls
will be returned with lots of spin
regardless of the linesman’s calls.
I hope you’ll hit them back in turn,
but only if you have the knack
to play the game and you will learn
I’ll hit them back.
the game
To play the game, one practices
each move it takes to have success
and as time passes you’re a whiz;
at least you’ll stop making a mess
but if you think you’ve no more need
for repetitions in your fame
the rust will show. You won’t succeed
to play the game.
To play the game of short rondeau
one must be quick of hand and mind
in your retort. The poem’s flow
should be the tetrameter kind
with alternating witty rhyme.
Pen thought within its tiny frame
that doesn’t have to be sublime
to play the game.
L6 did read: thoughts within a brief essay
Thanks Daniel!
One doesn't have to follow on
with all the words to make a verse;
the whole thing's one extended con
and sometimes we all end up worse
than when we started on the trek.
What you must do is somewhere halve
line number one then cash the check
one doesn't have.
Gent-ly
One doesn’t have to be told twice
of a mistake made in a form
so your reminder was quite nice
in nudging me back to the norm.
Both short and sweet, no cuts or jabs
that needed antiseptic salve
and didn’t leave slow healing scabs
one doesn’t have.
Your fragile thong will never burst
for front and back are near the same
unless you put it on reversed
then something might hang out. For shame
that it should look like you are nude
but look once more; they’ll find they’re wrong
and it was not what they construed…
your fragile thong.
Couldn't help myself!
I think I'm missing something here, Larry. I don't think I get it!
always sLightly dull, Daniel
Hi Daniel,
If you will remember, in the “Ode to a Lily” string in Karnak, I said something about your quip of refraining from comment because it would burst your “fragile thong” and I wrote back a note about the start of a short rondeau. I posted the same thing in that string as well as in this “Short Rondeau” string. I tried my best to not step on the posting standard’s toes with a slightly bawdy post.
Sorry for the confusion.
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