A Poem Old ( a Villanelle )

A poem old has verses wrapped in gold As rhythmic beauty pours from every line; A magic gift with music to behold. Sophisticated language ripe and bold Applied with master crafted strokes sublime; A poem old has verses wrapped in gold. A reservoir of riches there we mold Inside a tapestry spread over time; A magic gift with music to behold. As summer heat turns into winter cold, These songbird troubadours sing out their rhyme; A poem old has verses wrapped in gold. Perfection flows from words these poets told In metronomic splendor like a chime; A magic gift with music to behold. The modern poet cannot lift their load While writing pablum far removed from prime; A poem old has verses wrapped in gold, A magic gift with music to behold.