Long Rondel Poems
Long Rondel Poems. Below are the most popular long Rondel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rondel poems by poem length and keyword.
Welcome, Summer
by Geoffrey Chaucer
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather
and driven away her long nights’ frosts.
Saint Valentine, in the heavens aloft,
the songbirds sing your praises together!
Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather.
We have good cause to rejoice, not to scoff,
since love’s in the air, and also in the heather,
whenever we find such blissful warmth, together.
Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather
and driven away her long nights’ frosts.
Whoso List to Hunt
by Sir Thomas Wyatt
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
Whoever longs to hunt, I know the deer;
but as for me, alas!, I may no more.
This vain pursuit has left me so bone-sore
I'm one of those who falters, at the rear.
Yet friend, how can I draw my anguished mind
away from the doe? Thus, as she flees before
me, fainting I follow. I must leave off, therefore,
since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Whoever seeks her out, I relieve of any doubt,
that he, like me, must spend his time in vain.
For graven with diamonds, set in letters plain,
these words appear, her fair neck ringed about:
"Touch me not, for Caesar's I am,
And wild to hold, though I seem tame."
Brut
by Layamon, circa 1100 AD, an excerpt
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Now he stands on a hill overlooking the Avon,
seeing steel fishes girded with swords in the stream,
their swimming days done,
their scales a-gleam like gold-plated shields,
their fish-spines floating like shattered spears.
If you see a busker singing for tips, you're seeing someone carrying on an Anglo-Saxon tradition that goes back to the days of Beowulf …
He sits with his harp at his thane's feet,
Earning his hire, his rewards of rings,
Sweeping the strings with his skillful nail;
Hall-thanes smile at the sweet song he sings.
—"Fortunes of Men" loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Chaucer, rondel, roundel, welcome, summer, sun, winter, weather, frost, songbirds, song, love, night, nights, ice, icy, heaven, heavens, sky, Wyatt, hunt, busker, thanes, Anglo-Saxon, Beowulf
Some will say
The Rondel Grand Modified
Let's accept fact, none is perfect
Yes, errors occur though 'twas checked;
It is OK, don't be upset.
Oh! yes, there is a fear of threat;
Some will say odds, decry.
There will be some people who will
show mistakes, write harsh words with skill;
They'll try to defame, to frustrate
through scathing words, try to negate.
Some will say words to slam.
We can't control what others say;
But, we can curb to stay away.
Lets internalize the content
of comments and learn, know intent;
Some will say with dismay.
First response on flak presented
most will become just defensive.
Let's stop instant reaction, pause
for a moment, ...never faux pas.
Some will say words with wrath.
Don't strike such critics, to settle;
Why one should stoop to that level?
Don't have to commit the same sins.
Realize in a war none wins?
Some will say words show strength.
Let’s rise above attacks, petty
insult; it makes one unsteady.
Better to respond in quiet.
positive manner, be silent.
Some will say, do your work.
One must remain positive, take
criticism well, to curb mistake.
Lets take chance, be better person;
Avoid conflict, peace is certain.
Some will say , let them say.
Ground trembled
Houses fell, city mangled
Loss and Chaos bull having free run
Many deaths, overnight many born as new orphan
On Ritchers scale, quake measured by *****Sapien
Human destroying Nature on big scale
Natures Tit Tat tale
Wail trail
Global Warming bleeds
Mercury soaring day and night
Nature breached
Humans shall burn, just not sweat
Human Ash in Earth's Oven
Measured Calamity, Natures miracles *****Sapiens never measured
Sunrise, lunar phases, twinkling stars
Blood, pregnancy, katabolism, photosynthesis, cell construction
Jungle, river, valley, mountain, Natures miracles umpteen
Apathy abound, none thinks altruistically about natural restoration
Reduce Mining, Deforestation, Pollution, Reclamation,
Measured Calamity, Natures miracles *****Sapiens never measured
Forgetting Natures havoc is triggered by human havoc causing Nature’s scars
Self-restraint is way to halt Natures destruction
Go green, lessen carbon emission
Save Earth, conserve Nature should be everyone’s mission
Ritcher’s Scale may not be needed, if human increases organic consumption
Measured Calamity, Natures miracles *****Sapiens never measured
(Entry for Members contest : Trois Par Huit---Tanka----Rondel by Jared Pickett)
My heart is on fire with blazing passion for you
'cause you torched my heart with flames of your love.
The spark in your eyes with flickering light full of love
winking me, fueling my burning desires for you.
My body is scorched by sizzling crave for you
while you hold me in your arms with hot embracing love.
My heart is on fire with blazing passion for you
'cause you torched my heart with flames of your love.
My mind is dazzled by flaring fantasies about you
as you kiss me and singe my lips with your searing love.
The flash in your smile with melting joy full of love
luring me erotically; erupting my love like wildfire for you.
My heart is on fire with blazing passion for you
'cause you torched my heart with flames of your love.
Date : 10/02/2016
Note : For the Movie Mania - Romance Poetry Contest by Nicola Byrne.
*Placed Third*
This poem is inspired by the novel and movie Fifty Shades of Grey.
This poem is a French form 'Rondel Supreme' consisting of 14 isosyllabic lines
Rhyme scheme : ABba abAB abbaAB. The capital letters are the
refrains, or repeated lines.
There isn't an option of this particular form in this site,
which is why I had to place it under rhyme form.
Rondel Pain
Poetry can inflict pain like a sharp rondel dagger,
Encircling each word with bigoted judgments on hand.
Down a spiral staircase a poet’s thoughts may stagger.
Semi-circular fashioned, ideas traverse memories’ span.
Hysterical, political…subject does not matter.
Orderliness and cleverness mete out the author’s plan.
Poetry can inflict pain like a sharp rondel dagger,
Encircling each word with bigoted judgments on hand.
Banter securely bound, released by creative augur.
Can choose many words found in vocabulary land.
Lexis gone thrilling can kill the heart of an iceman –
Stop, please! Choose kindly words; become a pain free enabler.
Poetry can inflict pain like a sharp rondel dagger.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
June 2, 2010
Poetic form: Rondel (Rondel Rhyming Pattern: ABab, abAB, aabbA)
Thanks Jared for making us think!
LEARN MORE:
1. POETRY: http://www.ehow.com/how_16711_write-rondel.html
2. DAGGAR http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rondel_dagger
3. STAINED GLASS http://www.anythinginstainedglass.com/glass/Rondels/rondels.html
For Jared Pickett's Trois Par Huit.....Tanka.....Rondel Contest:
It is fall
and now I’ve tasted gall -
prefaced by a final kiss from you.
The moon, huge ball above that shines a golden hue,
seems a sign auspicious - but oh, that is not true!
Trenchant words you spilled; my heart is cleft.
I’ve wept (beyond bereft)
now you’ve left.
Dear, can’t you recall
how we’d thought our love would grow?
Your touch would enthrall
me through long days; moon’s warm glow -
Where did summer’s solstice go?
How will I ever find the wherewithal
to hold on through each coming lonely night?
My heart is hollow now, but holds no light,
and autumn’s sky too soon will cast its pall.
Abounding love and sun are gone. How small
will be the days to come. How much less bright!
How will I ever find the wherewithal
to hold on through each coming lonely night?
In fragrant blush of June, to garden wall
I’d run, your sunflower smile in my sight.
How can I stop my mind from taking flight -
so lost in thought of when we had it all;
how will I ever find the wherewithal?
a rondel
We rode by and caught The Thinker in France,
one small window of time, recklessly close.
The Vatican has many small windows
when in Rome, we’d stood by, long in advance.
Rows of windows, we'd waited for a glance
of Pope Francis giving blessed repose.
We rode by and caught The Thinker in France,
one small window of time, recklessly close.
Rodin’s famed sculpture exposed quite by chance,
from the bus, our eyes fixed on his well-known pose.
In Rome, so far-away, the pope? who knows?
But in Paris no doubt, no looks askance,
We rode by and caught The Thinker in France.
posted December 13, 2015
This form is a rondel. As I was writing about an experience in Paris, I thought a French form would be appropriate. I like the occasion to use repeated lines for emphasis. My poem is a contrast between a serendipitous, chance sighting of the famous sculpture, The Thinker, in Paris and a well-planned but long wait to hear Pope Francis' Sunday blessing in Rome. Both Rodin's sculpture and the pope represent great thinkers in different ways.
Tears subside,
hushed breaths draw ebbing tide,
soft virgin sands, un-walked and damp, shine.
A delicate filigree of silvery brine
brings an interlude where grief and beauty entwine,
gently swaying between now and then.
Thoughts of ‘remember when’
stir again.
Scattered far and wide,
bygones shimmer in rock pools,
scents on breezes ride...
elusive remnants of love
under bitter-sweet moonlight.
There is a place where reveries reside,
ensconced in time between the lows and highs,
where troubles disappear in ocean’s sighs
and hopes return with happiness inside.
Where shades of blue, and rose hues coincide
to nurture promises of sweet reprise,
there is a place where reveries reside,
ensconced in time between the lows and highs.
A haven to reflect on love’s divide,
recall that smile, the twinkle of those eyes
with fondness, then let woven dreams arise
with threads of gilded memories to guide...
this is the place where reveries reside.
**For Jared Pickett's Trois Par Huit /Tanka/Rondel contest
go to dine
start with a little wine
present her your own natural self
Compliments are a sure way to keep off the shelf
never speak of money or your personal wealth
stay focused and see ways to relate
order food sure to sate
good first date
~//~
a stitch made in time
in the course of do and don’ts
is said to save nine
you are more well off to plan
than caught dead in the water
~//~
Better to always have thoughts benign.
Better to always meet at least as friends.
There is no awkward making of amends.
Quickly conjuring excuses for evil design
It’s good not to imbibe in verbal decline.
The reasons just don’t justify the ends.
Better to always have thoughts benign
Better to always meet at least as friends.
I’m embarrassed to have my words malign.
So I try to say nothing which might offend.
That’s a good thing, I don’t have to pretend,
when I’m falsely accused of verbal brine.
Better to always have thoughts benign.
© Oct 20 2010 Charles Henderson 3 rd
in Jared's Trois, Tanka, Rondel contest
< Sweet sweet Lorrayne
No voice to speak
Smile always peaked
Just wanted to end her pain
Known to one and all
Cookies cakes she loved to bake
Orders were never to small
Family tradition she wanted to make
Meds and revival she wanted nil
Family and friends held her hand
Assured she would wake in the promise land
Lit a candle and placed it next to cross in window sill
Oh ye hearts tears did over ~ flow and fill