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Villanelle Grandmother Poems | Villanelle Poems About Grandmother

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

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Details | Villanelle | |

An Angel of Christmas Past

The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget It was the day we celebrated yes I do remember The family came together for you with no regret Recalling a child, spying around, found a train set I would start to feel the excitement in November The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget Someone hurries to buy a last gift in a Corvette Another sad to celebrate, a gift they can’t render The family came together for you with no regret The rest of the holiday, I’ll change my mindset Going to show some real spirit, not be a pretender The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget If there is anyone, it’s to you that I am in debt Lil sweet lady, no you were powerful yet slender The family came together for you with no regret So far from that magical time I’m a dark silhouette But my cold hard heart starts to melt in December The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget You taught me about Holiday spirit, with no regret
Written by me Wayland Bunch II on 12/10/2013 for Happy Holidays contest in memory of my grandmother. I changed the last line, felt forced to change it, but will still categorize this poem as a Villanelle. I could have easily repeated the closing line again, or could have called it free verse, but neither would have done justice to the message or the form, because I used the power of the repetition, provided by the form, throughout.

Copyright © wayland bunch | Year Posted 2013

Details | Villanelle | |

Villanelle For Tomorrow: An ELJ Poem

Villanelle For Tomorrow: An ELJ Poem


The weaver of our destiny
Plies shuttle at her threaded loom:
She weaves a fragile dream for me.

Its fabric hints of prophecy;
Clairvoyant, she sees through our gloom—
The weaver of our destiny—

A world in which no jealousy
Nor greed nor power may yet find room;
She weaves a fragile dream for me.

She visions larger history
Where nuclear fission spells no doom—
The weaver of our destiny.

Among mankind with probity
The flower of racial love will bloom—
She weaves a fragile dream for me.

With plausible identity
Throughout the dream there moves a Form;
The weaver of our destiny
She weaves a fragile dream for me.

Ethyl L. Jordan

Copyright © Richard Jordan | Year Posted 2015