Another Villanelle (Deirdre)

Villanelle (well nearly!)

Mist

The mist will everything in its wake enfold
from the sea below it’s playing truant
clutching, with silver fingers soft and cold.

It creeps around the stone sheepfold,
covers it over with a white garment.
The mist will everything in its wake enfold

It leaches colour, browns, greens and gold,
dampens bird calls lonely, soft or strident,
clutching, with silver fingers soft and cold.

It hides our view, insidious blindfold,
all hollows, rocks, peaks, land’s alignment.
The mist will everything in its wake enfold.

But for an instant the daylight’s paroled
a ray of bright sunshine, playful, vibrant,
clutching those silver fingers soft and cold

A brocken spectre breaks the mist’s handhold
Below us dancing, our shadow’s fragment.
Then mist will everything in its wake enfold,
clutching, with silver fingers, soft and cold.

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One thought on “Another Villanelle (Deirdre)

  1. raefonb

    I think that image of daylight being paroled is great, it really stuck with me as an original way to communicate the sun’s brief appearance. In terms of the rhythm/metrical issue mentioned in class: as I said, being deaf to accent, that aspect didn’t trip me up at all and the lines with syllabic variance seem to be solved (in my head, at least) by slowing/speeding up the reading pace. Did you read it aloud when writing – I reckon it could reveal a lot about your own poetic voice and musicality? 🙂

    Like

    Reply

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