Versed, Re-versed & Unversed « Structures, Styles and Sonnetation «
Rondeau
The rondeau is a wonderful lyric form -- French, obviously, and created during those romantic years when minstrels sighed over anything in skirts. Like most French forms, it has no specific metric requirements but when you're writing in English it makes it hard on the ear if you don't use some kind of regular meter. It is three stanzas of 5, 4 and 6 lines respectively. The lines are either all 8 or all 10 syllables long, except for the last line in the second and third stanzas, which is called the rentrement or "re-entry" and is a repetition of the first word or phrase in the first line of the poem.
The rhyme scheme is:
a-a-b-b-a
a-a-b-R
a-a-b-b-a-R
It should look something like this:
Fairytale
A fairytale I'll paint for you,
With sunrises of golden hue,
Where castles built of sugar sand
Are spun and raised by tender hand,
In quiet fields of honeydew.
As clouds of amber float in blue,
(Astride them angels, passing through)
Their blessing falls upon this land -
A fairytale.
Where summer breezes will renew
All hearts, to make one piece of two,
And build upon foundations grand
A place for minds and souls to stand,
And to create, as dreamers do,
A fairytale.
Laurie from Cloud 9 Associate, 1452 posts |
This one looks difficult, but I love the lyrical sound of this... I will have to attempt a Rondeau... No promises on content, but I will try to get the form correct! |
Deadpoetsmilk 139 posts |
The Wandering Minstrel in Post-Modern Mythology Push forward. Keep on trucking. God has given you a gentle nod. The light is green, a magic box throws light upon your metal ox, onto the paths and goldenrod
from garden myths. A cherub door is what you’ll find, should you explore the cells that make your body. Sing canary, from your prison wing. Push forward
knock down the gates, those holy gates, reclaim the fields, wisps, brooks, and Fates. Arise from toppled tower ruins to kiss a lonely mannequin. Push forward.
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| Deadpoetsmilk 139 posts |
Oh dear...in fact after closer examination, I didn't follow any of the form. Whoops...um...help? You'd think I'd wrote enough of these to not make such mistakes.
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Leanne from Just west of the lounge room Associate, 3019 posts |
So... Ryan can't count to two rhymes! I actually quite like yours, and the rentrement idea's there... since Shakespeare and the rest of the English mob couldn't deal with the restrictive rhymes of other European languages and called their sonnets "English", how about you just go with a yankee rondeau? If you can't count the rhymes, the number of lines in each stanza is definitely going to be too hard :P Laurie, don't be put off, they're not really all that hard. When you've got the form done properly once it's almost impossible to muck it up again. Unless you're Ryan |
| Leanne from Just west of the lounge room Associate, 3019 posts |
Incidentally Ryan, is it just my imagination or are you actually writing in meter that works these days? It's really good. |
| Deadpoetsmilk 139 posts |
It's just your basic iambic-tetrameter, but that thank you.
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Alcuin of York Associate, 1439 posts |
Dang woman! If I should ever fall prey to hubris, all I'd have to do is visit your pages. Not only do you stick faithfully to the convoluted rules, but you make it flow easily - to sound natural. Kudos! Alcuin of Humbleville |
| Leanne from Just west of the lounge room Associate, 3019 posts |
Rules are not so hard to follow... this is actually one of the easier forms, provided you get a good line to start with. And I know it's hard to be humble when you're Smurfect in every way. |
Colleen 518 posts |
I am so new to this.. I haven't ever heard of this form... thanks for the lesson.. and your poem is wonderful... |
| Deadpoetsmilk 139 posts |
Sheol
He held a flower to his chest
and dreamt of rocking chairs. The rest
he needs is having an affair
with time. These God-damn birds prepare
to wake the morning. His request
for silence is declined. No breast
to lay his head upon, no guest
to gum of life. Does no one care
he held a flower?
His life’s been long, he would attest
to that, to long and short, he’d jest.
Perhaps his games of solitaire
have reaped this misfortune; a prayer
unheard, a life denied, depressed;
he held a flower.
By Ryan Barrientos Wilbur
Okay, since I could not 'follow' directions. This is my new attempt.
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