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Nostalgia Villanelle Poems | Villanelle Poems About Nostalgia

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

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Colors in my Mind

my aging eyes have sadly become color blind though in my memories, rainbows frolic and play this mind will not forget what the eyes cannot find I miss rich skin colors, the beauty of mankind and the sparkle in a child's eyes, to see I pray my aging eyes have sadly become color blind hot sand between my toes and ocean waves remind the boldness of red and blue in my thoughts display this mind will not forget what the eyes cannot find from sunsets to flower blooms, God's brilliance designed in the warm breeze, petunias and daffodils sway my aging eyes have sadly become color blind colors in a Van Goth painting, boldly combined or the softly muted colors of a Monet this mind will not forget what the eyes cannot find dazzling emeralds, sapphires, and rubies once shined yesterdays beaming rainbows are now shades of gray my aging eyes have sadly become color blind this mind will not forget what the eyes cannot find By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, March 4, 2012 for Color Blindness contest (Olajide Adelana)


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VIGNETTES



I crave for them in weaves of light And scan life’s vignettes on my mind Their charmed love wraps me day and night By the porch, his guitar sings bright Relieving heart’s joys so entwined I crave for them in weaves of light My grandma's laughter soft and sprite My grandpa's brown eyes, firm yet kind Their charmed love wraps me day and night Bedtime tales inspire fancy’s flight Hide-and- seek thrills, now hard to find I crave for them in weaves of light They taught me to win, lose with might Till frail trees sobbed with old age grind Their charmed love wraps me day and night Legacy of my heroes' blessed rite Find me weaving past years all timed I crave for them in weaves of light Their charmed love wraps me day or night (c) *villanelle: 8 syllable count For Janette Fisher's By nette onclaud


Details | Villanelle |

I Was In a Big Snafu

I was in a big snafu.
I could not pay any bills.
And the neighbors never knew.
 
No need to feel all blue.
I read books by candlelight.
I was in a big snafu.

The electric bill was due.
Sconce and candles on each wall.
And the neighbors never knew.

I thought I might go cuckoo.
Hard work was about to fall.
I was in a big snafu.

I cooked meals on the hearth, too.
The payments would not forestall.
And the neighbors never knew.

Three house sales had fallen through.
I soon told my house adieu.
I was in a big snafu.
And the neighbors never knew.

© March 7, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen


Details | Villanelle |

From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands

From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands.
Comely words of comfort put the comma in the gray;
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands.

Hesitating white clouds meet the night`s dark commands,
But bring the dawn`s serenity for the a golden bay;
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands

Luminous black jack oak stopped the moving sands;
The winding road might have danced on the hills` clay;
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands


Recollections` last wave in the glass blowers` light stay,
Smiling from Spring Lake to Thistle Shimmer`s way, 
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands, 

Pine Barrens` silken grasses are kissed by birds of height,
Chateau Inn looks at the grave laurel and blueberry gay, 
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands.
In Paradise, rivers flow under Blueberry Month` sight.


Details | Villanelle |

Portrait of Handsome in his Youth

Euginia Liapich
Any poem/Any form - for new poets of soup. 
November 26,2013

Well-powered ideals flowing free
Your Existential ,Passionate search for Truth
While wallowing in Unacessible Grief

It being usage rather than TB
Consumption, over-consuming to consume
Well-powered ideals flowing free

On Reminiscence of a Family tree
Upon your life in the Genetic Doom
While wallowing in Unacessible Grief

Upon exploring your Artisitic Streak
On cultivating your Poetic Bloom
Well-powered ideals flowing free

Did you for once the future nor Predict
And living with Your unwarranted Gloom
While wallowing in Unacessible Grief

Priorities changes Ideals not as Chief
By moral fall I was overconsumed
Well-powered ideals flowing free
While wallowing in Unacessible Grief


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In wonder's winters' wistful wrings

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings 

 
In wonder's winters' wistful wrings,
Windmills wait for their windstorm's day;
Worldly wreath and wrath of kings 
Writhe in wrong and wrought old rings,
While stars of happy green, in woe they pray.

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings, 
My love is rowing, and angels white it brings.
A whiff white of dreams and air beings,
While whirlwind whets the winter's whip gray. 
But who is there, where my heart sings? 
The seasons gathered to meet The Milky Way…
 
In wonder's winters' wistful wrings, 
Whispers of love enlighten the things:
Sweet serenity of green in the light's way; 
From Father Chrisman, the blessed rainbow sings  
The same new written poem with white wings…
All we became a tree in no time's amber, I pray.

In wonder's winters' wistful wrings,
With our seasons, with happy angels we play.


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Alone

The Christmas tree stands alone
But still decorated with lights glowing
The family has come and gone

A misty tear drop with a quiet groan
Remembering the days when they were home
The Christmas tree stands alone

Wanting little ones to come and crawl in zone
Of the blanket, packages, and decorations
The family has come and gone

Leftover food, torn wrap, lights that shone
Guiding them to this warm old home
The Christmas tree stands alone

Dirty dishes, soiled placemats, candles blown
Still longing for them at home
The family has come and gone

Time passes, situations change
The love in my heart remains the same
The Christmas tree stands alone
The family has come and gone


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L'PRIMA'S BAILARINA VILLANELLE

Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?
The s p i n  I'm in
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."

In Portraits to arabesques in Castles in Spain
And belles letteres of A. Nin
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?

Perhaps a chanticleer, puffed jactate, abreast of whether, vained
For thy meadowLin 
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."

ReSown seeds, reap our grain
Grapes to wine, nary raisin'?
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?

A burning untamed
Unassuaged by Verse, unlessen'
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."

Will girasoles thrive arranged
Or Lilies' parure Daffodils akin?
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."