Villanelle

Echos In Your Bones
They whisper over deafened stones; "Who dares to challenge what is won?" But how it echoes in your bones. Surely, those who warm the thrones
By Rebekah Conard2 years ago in Poets
Your Magic Is Mine
Tell me your stories, “Your magic is mine,” Words so sweet they brought a tear. I clearly remember you speaking this line.
By Stephanie J. Bradberry2 years ago in Poets
Tell Me Your Story
Tell me your stories, your magic is mine. In the land of consequences and time Where real world breeds stories that grew as vines
By Sarah Danaher2 years ago in Poets
Regards
Kind Regards 2023 is a year of cheer. Signed with kindness in cards. ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
By Cathy Deslippe2 years ago in Poets
New Year's is Coming
The bells are ringing Celebrations seen New Year’s is coming ***** The last month ending The next month's routine The bells are ringing
By Sarah Danaher2 years ago in Poets
The Lonely Christmas Rain
The bed had sheets bleached snow-white and the hospital room was plain. Everyone came to say “Good-bye,” one last time to see.
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)2 years ago in Poets
Oh, The Poor Gingerbread Man
Oh, the poor gingerbread man He ran till he ran away No one could catch him, one can? ***** Then there came a baker man
By Sarah Danaher2 years ago in Poets
Brilliance Breeds Madness
It is said that brilliance breeds madness, And those minds are the most delicious; (Finger licks, cold eyes flicker darkness.)
By j.e.ridpath2 years ago in Poets
Wrapped
I’m far more messed up Than I thought Forever bled Of any “normal” thought Against them all I have fought I don’t know what you want
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
The Eye
Hemorrhaging hypocrisy Of one way conversations You’re judging me When all I see is beauty How are you supposed to see me
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
I Will Not Go Gently. Runner-Up in Villanelle Challenge.
I will not go gently into the night, But rather walk along the path of day, So gladly step through sun's increasing light.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 years ago in Poets
Fallen Leaves from the Weeping Willow
All of us, at one point or another, wish that we had not done something that we had done. Many a time, those feelings of regret come a tad too late. We have no choice but to accept the consequences of faulty or impulsive decisions.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin2 years ago in Poets