Best Rondeau Poems | Poetry
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The Best Rondeau Poems
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Rondeau Poem
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Travel Light – a Goodnight Lullaby
Travel light, my dear; softly go
beyond the night’s each black shadow
to another plane. Out of sight
exists a realm of such delight
you may find relief from sorrow!
Lay your head on your pillow.
Sink into the Now. Tomorrow
comes soon enough, but for tonight
travel light!
Let the sweet magic start to flow -
angel wings sweeping over snow
it may seem, or a rainbow bright!
Close your eyes, Darling, and take flight!
In Dreamland you soon will be, so
travel light!
Written Jan. 15, 2017 for the Travel LIght Contest of Kai Michael Neumann
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017
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Rondeau Poem
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The darkness at noon - We’ve been led
to walk with a blossoming dread
through streets, as if we have no will,
and all the world is strangely still.
We walk - no word among us said.
We all had seen the sky grow red
before our sun, which warmed us, fled!
It only stayed with us until
the darkness at noon.
Our lungs can breathe. We have not bled,
but we are now the living dead,
for all around us grows a chill
upon the earth. Gone is the thrill
of light and life! We see instead
the darkness at noon!
For the 101 in a ROW contest -6 of PD, Linda!!!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
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Rondeau Poem
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Hidden beauty I know can dwell
within a body worn and frail.
I think of one who had been doled
great miseries, so once grown old,
his body seemed a dismal shell. .
Although he’d lived on earth his hell,
grown nearly crippled and unwell,
his inner fortitude was gold -
Hidden beauty!
Life’s many hardships could not quell
his positivity, nor fell
that strength - his fire against the cold -
a virtue that should be extolled!
In knowing him, I well could tell
hidden beauty.
For Skat's the Premiere Contest number 14 Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
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Rondeau Poem
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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!
Wake up, my heart! I 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.
For the Wake Up My Heart Contest of Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
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Rondeau Poem
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In the library, at last I am freed
from others’ wishes for what I should read.
Book after book I most gladly peruse
with all these free hours I now get to use
finding books that I love; not just books that I need!
The books about science which teachers all feed
our minds with are making my eyes start to bleed!
I think I would even prefer reading news
in the library.
How much more enthralling are aisles that lead
to books of pure fiction! I will not heed
strict teachers, for romance and drama I choose.
Just see, I’ve already picked novels that ooze
suspense! Yes, indeed, I’m doing the deed
In the library.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
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Rondeau Poem
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The Hands of Time
The hands of time stand eerie still
Where hearts chamber a cagey chill,
And whispers warn of shadows deep
With eyes that strain as shower’s sweep,
The sands of time a formless fill.
Disenchanting dreams pave their will
Seconds follow a timely till,
While the dormant lie counting sheep,
The hands of time.
Where voices scratch a shackled shrill
The hours' harbor a haunting thrill,
And the minutes tear as they weep
Behind the veils the walls of sleep,
Moon in sight above the foothill
The hands of time.
#4
The Rondeau consists of 13 lines of 8 syllables plus 2 refrains
AABBA - AAB with refrain C - AABBA with Refrain C
July.25.2018
Rondeau Poetry
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Placed 1'st
Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2018
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Rondeau Poem
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Memories of the sea wash over me
on days when clouds are drifting cottony
above my head through placid azure sky.
Such images flit like a butterfly
across my mind; I seize them gratefully!
They bring with them sweet thoughts of family
and times of which I now can testify
flowed out like tides to leave me by and by. . .
memories of the sea.
How young we were in days so summery!
Through waves we leapt, expending energy.
Sated, we lay sunning on the beach to dry,
till sunlight - like our youth - sank down to die.
But I will keep for an eternity
memories of the sea.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
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Rondeau Poem
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Words left unsaid as teardrops fell
The price of love, their hearts would tell
And so they parted, love took flight
And left their hearts to lonely nights
Each unable to break loves spell
Distant sound of the old church bell
Rang through seasons they knew so well
Winter to spring, summer shone bright
Words left unsaid
Each had a broken heart to sell
As fire within they tried to quell
Memories fade in Luna's light
Stars wished upon twinkle in sight
Love's distant star, flickers farewell
Words left unsaid
--
9/22/17
Contest Name: Form U- U pick 'em
Sponsor; Broken Wings
Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2017
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Rondeau Poem
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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 the Life Poetry Contest of Janis Thompson
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
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Rondeau Poem
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Let laughter ring, for here comes Spring.
With warbling birds we gaily sing.
As wizened Winter turns and goes,
March promptly puffs her cheeks and blows!
The Old Man’s gone. . . we’re rollicking
when next comes April frolicking
behind spry March. Her visage glows.
Let laughter ring.
Then Spring a climax sweet will bring.
There at the Maypole, in a ring,
are fetching maids in pretty clothes.
And bounteous the sun now grows
as June appears; . . Spring’s had her fling.
Let laughter ring!
Jan. 4, 2014
(Here comes Spring: I know , I know, wishful thinking!!)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
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Rondeau Poem
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A PLACE IN THE SUN
A place in the sun, it's there I want to run. . .
Orange and yellow palette brush my face,
they dry my wells of fears and so I won,
I-- slowly flower from God's skirt of grace.
Unfailing is His love shown sweet to His face,
I eagerly crave to behold in million tons
as to entwine in His warmth: My Master race.
A place in the sun, it's there I want to run. . .
Rainbow peeping after some raging storm spun;
His reminder that we: His people must chase
infant days to grow better with our love ones.
Orange and yellow palette brush my face
for God so kind. My pains, He soothes and erase.
Tender are His words as I read them one by one
helping me be fearless yet humble with my pace.
They dry my wells of fears and so I won--
then my heart soar high, I have some fun.
Evil always haunts but with Him, all I can evade,
hence, troubles are little but close to none.
I slowly flower from God's skirt of grace. . .
God crashes darkness with love not by gun.
Must we go elsewhere when He is the best hiding place?
God is everything before even life began
God our undefeatable fortress-- His base
a place in the sun.
__________________________________________________
Sponsor Gail Angel Doyle
Contest Name A Place In The Sun
Placed 1st
©O>E. Guillermo
10:20 pm. January 12, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
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Rondeau Poem
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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
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
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Rondeau Poem
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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.
Copyright © Claire de la Grange | Year Posted 2006
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Rondeau Poem
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A blazing fire is crackling its refrain
as I recall a love, perhaps not sane.
Beside this hearth you tenderly caressed
my body and we simmered; then we pressed
against each other. Heat was our domain!
My heart now pulses rhythm with a rain
which beats staccato on my window pane.
Torrential is the longing in my breast -
a blazing fire.
The warmth of your embraces soon would wane.
You left, but images have seared my brain. . .
like you in glow of dancing flames, undressed.
I wish with all my soul that I were blessed
to have you here again, for I remain
a blazing fire
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
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Rondeau Poem
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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
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2013
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Rondeau Poem
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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 limbs 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 a while 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
Now for the Late October contest of Brian Strand
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
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Rondeau Poem
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This heavy guilt weighing on me,
Like too many leaves on a little tree
Covered in rain from a sky that poured
I hurt a person who I adored
If I could have just let things be,
Then maybe he could now run free
Instead he stands numb with a silent plea
My actions, once sweet, are now deplored
This heavy guilt
He and I, once we
Now like locks without a key
The distance so great we could never ford
But his name still on my heart is scored
I wonder if the world can see
This heavy guilt
Copyright © L. M. K. | Year Posted 2014
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Rondeau Poem
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"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..
Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2012
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Rondeau Poem
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Past the graveyard deep in snow
where icicles from boughs hang low
one woman at a headstone weeps
as memories in warmth she keeps,
all dressed in black like winter crows.
Still muted angels' trumpets blow
where frost on trees like lichens grow
and 'cross the powder darkness creeps
past the graveyard.
As by wrought iron fence I go
the granite gapes in pewter rows.
My heart into my throat now leaps;
her mortal love in silence sleeps
in frozen ground while snowflakes blow
past the graveyard.
MID NOVEMBER PREMIERE CONTEST any theme,any form,max of 25 lines
11/14/17
This is a rewrite of my Terzanelle, "I Pass the Graveyard".
Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017
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Rondeau Poem
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For Our Love So True
For our love so true lasts now forever
For I knoweth I shall leave you never,
Here on Earth ‘n later in Heaven’s light,
Whilst God is with us on this cosmic night,
Angels sing to us with all due pleasure.
Our passions are beyond mortal measure,
As we walk tonight, hands held together,
We know our emotions feel now so right
For our love so true.
God’s divine love is our special treasure,
Our souls, are bound now together ever,
We ascend now with the angels in flight,
We bask in God’s holy blessings tonight.
With our souls now one, no one can severe
For our love so true.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
November 18, 2017 (Rondeau)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2017
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Rondeau Poem
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Her eyes are blind to all his lies,
excuses and false alibis
The woman cuddles, silently
beside her lover, brazenly
until dawn welcomes the sunrise.
She cannot see behind his guise,
the charade she'll come to despise.
Defending him, defiantly.
Her eyes are blind ~
One day it will be no surprise,
when the veil will fall from her eyes
but until that day, quietly
she lives unaware, piously
on knees, a slave never to rise.
Her eyes are blind ~
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2017
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Rondeau Poem
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Rain gently falls this autumn night
Her thoughts caressed in misty flight
As she walks on the lonely lane
Shadows cast a ghostly refrain
There's not another soul in sight
These peaceful vibes bring her delight
This quietude, a welcome plight
No noise to crowd her or constrain...
Rain gently falls
Pitter patter rhythms then invite
Autumn's sad song to reach its height
"Neath her umbrella she'll remain
Within the fallen leaves domain
Walking towards a distant light -
Rain gently falls......
---
Contest name: Form R
Sponsor: Broken Wings
6/30/17
Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2017
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Rondeau Poem
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Crimson Rose
Against all odds, your destiny,
To live and grow, your history...
You grew and bloomed with all your might
With drops of rain and harsh sunlight
Through crack in earth you came to be.
Passed down from Greek mythology;
Adonis born from Myrrha's tree
In wild boars wounds from Ares fight
Against all odds.
Adonis' blood that flowed freely
Turned into roses magic'ly.
This sad tale of Adonis' plight
Engaged in death, now retains light
As you share love in purity
Against all odds.
8-2-18
2.
*In Greek mythology, roses originated from Adonis, deity of plants and rebirth. Adonis was born from a deceptive union between King Theias and his daughter Myrrha. When King Theias realized that his daughter had tricked him, he chased her with his sword. To protect Myrrha, Aphrodite transformed her into a tree.
King Theias shot the tree with an arrow, splitting it in half. It was from this tree that Adonis was born. Aphrodite took to Adonis and raised him like a son. As Adonis grew, he became an avid hunter. One day while he was hunting, Adonis came across Ares, one of Aphrodite’s past lovers, who was disguised as a wild boar. Ares attacked Adonis and when Aphrodite heard his screams, she ran into the forest and found him dying. The blood that ran from his wounds hit the ground and turned into roses.
In another version of the tale, red roses originated when Aphrodite was running to Adonis’ side, cut her feet on the thorns of the flowers, and stained them red.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2018
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Rondeau Poem
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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.
©2013by Leonora Galinta
Aug. 17, 2013 12.50am
Form: Roundel
Second Place
Contest: Carousel in Roundel
Judged: 8/19/2013
Sponsor: Poet Nette Onclaud
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013
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Rondeau Poem
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~the satin doll~
had voluptuous curves, grandeur,
~the satin doll~
with sultry voice and a sweet smile,
moved a president, it is clear,
Marilyn was childlike veneer,
~the satin doll.~
Weave a RONDOLET
For Nette
By John Moses Freeman
Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011