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Villanelle Baby Poems | Villanelle Poems About Baby

These Villanelle Baby poems are examples of Villanelle poems about Baby. These are the best examples of Villanelle Baby poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Villanelle | |

A Baby Cries

A baby cries for reasons quite unclear; 
The weather vane atop the barn spins round. 
And we gaze at the orange moon with fear. 

A comet streaks above but we can't hear, 
Its fiery burn occurs without a sound. 
A baby cries for reasons quite unclear. 

The rocket rises through the atmosphere 
But to the earth are most men ever bound. 
And we gaze at the orange moon with fear. 

The cryptic light of winking stars seems near 
Though speed of light serves only to confound; 
A baby cries for reasons quite unclear. 

On earth a broken heart will cause a tear 
To fall upon the richly dampened ground; 
And we gaze at the orange moon with fear. 

Three hundred sixty-five completes the year 
As love and life continue to astound; 
A baby cries for reasons quite unclear 
And we gaze at the orange moon with fear. 











Details | Villanelle | |

Innocence Interrupted- Get Low

Sacred beginnings, but my end, too soon
I lie, helpless, in false serenity
Preparing for life, her womb is my tomb.

I am like a flower, ready to bloom
My small frame forms, unborn tranquility
Sacred beginnings, but my end, too soon.

Her voice, so familiar, screams, in that room
My little heart pounds, in futility
Preparing for life, her womb is my tomb.

Pain, a new sensation, sharp, coursing through
My frail body, in death's reality
Sacred beginnings, but my end, too soon.

I cry out in silence, my parts are consumed
Stricken and murdered, so conveniently
Preparing for life, her womb is my tomb.

My innocent blood, spilled unwillingly
Unprotected, unheard, why should this be?
Sacred beginnings, but my end, too soon
Preparing for life, her womb is my tomb.




Written on 7/22/2015
For "Get Low" contest 




Details | Villanelle | |

Song of Green Rebirth

Tiny crabapple feet ply the soft, fertile earth
new moment of soil floods his open, seeking face
each day the child learns a song of green rebirth.

He beckons to the willow; wonders at her girth
I carry him close--we grace willow with embrace
tiny crabapple feet ply the soft, fertile earth.

He speaks with the daffodil, sharing her mirth
and sighs, contented in his own cosmic place
each day the child learns a song of green rebirth.

I watch as he contemplates the wind chime's verse
while his fingers explore clover woven like lace;
tiny crabapple feet ply the soft, fertile earth.

Wholly in love with the world in which he's immersed,
drawing from each aspect of the wild rose's grace,
this way, the child learns a song of green rebirth.

To him, every moment so tastily diverse
and our garden, mystical as far reaches of space
tiny crabapple feet ply the soft, fertile earth--
each day the child learns a song of green rebirth.