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Best Rondeau Poems

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That Night We Kissed

That night we kissed, my heart became a butterfly.
It sprouted wings and danced across the velvet sky,
then leapt across the multitude of stars there strewn
along its happy way to touch the crescent moon.
You held me close, but did you know my heart could fly?

And in its pounding, did you hear it testify
that you, and you alone, could ever satisfy
the woman that emerged from her secure cocoon
that night we kissed?

It onward soared with constellations yet to try. . .
my yearning heart, once captive, was no longer shy.
How can hearts set free be ever more immune
to sweet caresses in a night that all too soon
must have an end? I couldn't bear to say goodbye
that night we kissed.

For Joe Flach's Contest "First Time"
and now a very old oldie for PD's 
the May the best descriptive poem win~~~ ((old poems only))Poetry Contest

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To Feel

I want to feel my whole world burst, see scintillating stars dispersed across a vast unsullied sky the sapphire blue of my mind’s eye when life was fresh and untraversed. I want to jump again. . . headfirst into the ocean, be immersed as passion’s billows multiply. I want to feel! I want once more to WANT that thirst, expect the best and not the worst, to have my breath be stopped - to cry for heartbreak’s sake - not stop to sigh with rue that Fate can’t be reversed. . . . I want to feel. I saw a very interesting poem today called "To Feel Again" by a poet named "Little Known Nothing." I hope you will check it out and I hope I have written one that shares the "heart" of that poem. Coincidentally, I saw another poem with a very similar theme, which I also hope to have emulated: Wayland Bunch's "When I Ruled the World." For Catie Lindsey's 'The Heart of the Matter' Contest

Details | Rondeau Poem |


Upon her thorny heart I bleed;
My rose I nurtured from a seed,
With blazing bloom and perfume sweet,
Who pricked me with her warm deceit,
To where I gladly bade her leave.

Her eyes and smile they did precede,
A witchly soul that did deceive,
My love to stumble with conceit;
Upon her thorny heart.

If I could pluck her to be freed,
And rip her from my soul, indeed,
My lesson thus would be complete,
Sough not a love in lusty heat.
To this my penance I accede, 
Upon her thorny heart.

Details | Rondeau Poem |

I Dreamed a Butterfly

I dreamed a butterfly in golden days when buttercups lay in the fields ablaze. It fluttered to my cheek, sweet love to bring. My heart was wont to burst and wont to sing. In breath of morn was scent of bluebell sprays. On blossomed blankets of the fields we’d laze, and into one another’s eyes we’d gaze, my love and I, as April had her fling. I dreamed a butterfly. Our bliss was as the spring, a fleeting phase, and brief’s the beauty of young lovers’ craze. As cruelly as a wasp, he left a sting - and all the lovely plans we made took wing, leaving mere memories of golden days. I dreamed a butterfly. 2/21/13 For Francine Roberts' Spring is in the air Poetry Contest

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Wearied Wanderlust

"Wearied Wanderlust" upon a gilded meadow glows a bottle of tender tears scattered ashes burnt and laden carpeting of stone ravished emotions turbulent feasting on flesh and bone filtering through fibers as escalating fears harbor broken dreams evaporating in waning years as visions petrified reside in somber tone upon a gilded meadow glows Life's chilling chant of haunted love still stalks a tattered heart is wandering, wearied and all alone swallowed a bittersweet taste of vacant cone in endless patterns of desolate walks upon a gilded meadow glows..

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Life Is a Dance

Life is a dance we were all born to do. The styles to choose from are more than a few! Some choose simple two-step; some move with flair. Some slow dance; some break dance, devil-may-care! Some free style, while others just dance on cue. Some tango with zest; some shuffle soft-shoe. Others glide easily, waltzing on through. Some change their partners; some stay one pair. Life is a dance. You start with the styles in your own milieu, then grow as you add on new moves you view. You’ll stumble, but sometimes dance on sweet air! Just keep the beat; try new steps if you dare, for where you end up is all up to you. . . Life is a dance! For Kim Merryman's Life Is... Poetry Contest

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Rebuild Anew

“Rebuild anew”, he said to me,
the one of stillness ‘neath the sea.
“Rise to the shore; as one we’ll stand.
These hardened castles made of sand 
protect your darkest memory.”

The lone wolf blows with certainty.
He shatters hollow masonry.
Destruction steadied by still hand.
Rebuild anew.

I only want tranquility, 
to end these tortures mindlessly.
My heart be still, my life be grand.
Upon the rock I claim this land
to reinvent my destiny.
Rebuild anew.

Details | Rondeau Poem |


I hear their laughter and see their bright smiles, Going round and round with joy together, Their rhapsody reaches far beyond miles, I hear their laughter. I believe their dreams make this world brighter, Rich childhood experiences in wee while Will teach the love to make them grow better, A hold of their hands, a care that's tactile. Carousel, a cradle of young dreamer, Children galloping up and down in style I hear their laughter.
Aug. 17, 2013 12.50am Form: Roundel (my 2nd attempt) Second Place Contest: Carousel in Roundel Judged: 8/19/2013 Sponsor: Poet Nette Onclaud

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Autumn's Breath

The breath of autumn, from behind a veil of days lit golden, comes! The sun will fail to keep its fiery hold on us, and soon the trees will softly hum nostalgia’s tune as flutter-leaves reveal the season’s tale. Before fall’s glorious leaves begin to sail off limb of dying trees when chill winds wail, more welcome is (in nights beneath the moon) the breath of autumn! The bright hues of the season - never stale - stay warmly for awhile before they pale and winter brings to us its cold and gloom. Enjoy the harvest days; they are a boon! Release your soul to nature and inhale the breath of autumn. For Gail Angel Doyle's Autumn's Breath Contest

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I lay my head

I lay my head  upon the softness of its mane
My white charger, no knight for a swain
as I am the gallant rider looking for love.
Riding the green valleys with mountains above,
looking for hope in natures  fertile plain

A dream, a carousel  of  tears  and  pain
With bobbing horses making  a colourful train
Flying above a sure sign of hope, a dove
I lay my head 

Imagination in play as I search in vain
Why from happiness  must I abstain
My empty heart crying out to those above 
Praying each night, please bring me love 
Grabbing a handful of the silky white mane
I lay my head