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2006 Form Challenges
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The Roundelay was a simple and popular English form which can be traced back to the time of
Chaucer. It consists of any number of quatrains and is comprised of two couplets. The second couplet is the common rhyme within each stanza, and the last line of that couplet is the refrain. This gives a rhyme scheme of.. z. z. a. A:.. etc
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Roundelay Posts |
Maryse AchongJust as the seasons come and go, Just like the ocean’s ebb and flow, Just like earth’s orbit round the sun, Life’s rhythmic cycle’s never done. A baby’s born , we hear his cry, Just like the toddler’s endless ‘why’, We watch our children having fun, Life’s rhythmic cycle’s never done. We see our young ones spread their wings, And feel the pain that growing brings To every child, daughter or son, Life’s rhythmic cycle’s never done. A young adult emerges now, The stage is his, he takes a bow, A brand new phase has just begun, Life’s rhythmic cycle’s never done. An old man dies, relatives mourn, A bell is rung as if to warn That all too soon we will be gone, Life’s rhythmic cycle’s never done. ----- The Kiskadee I listen to the kiskadee Singing his sweet refrain He's perched upon my window sill I'm captivated by his trill. "Qu'est ce qu'il dit, qu'est ce qu'il dit?" His song gave him his name He asks the question of us still, I'm captivated by his trill. Somewhere a mate, perhaps a friend Echoes his cheerful tune, I'll sit until I've had my fill I'm captivated by his trill. He seems to ask, 'what does he say' He does not really care, He sings it now, he always will I'm captivated by his trill. ----- The Letter A letter came to me one day, Its contents blew my mind away, Such tenderness did it impart, That letter was a work of art. The letter told about true love, Of souls that fit like hand and glove, Of pain because we chose to part, That letter was a work of art. It talked about the days ahead, Of choosing happiness instead Of fear, promised a brand new start, That letter was a work of art. But then Life dealt a wicked hand, Everything changed, like shifting sand, Except the words within my heart, That letter was a work of art. But that was then, and this is now, And although Fate did not allow Him to remain, we’re not apart That letter was a work of art. ----- "Mun Do" It did not matter what they asked, It mattered not if she had passed By him, though he was barely two His answer was always "Mun do" "Who hit you son, who made you cry Who took your toy, poor little guy" And if they pressed "please tell us who" His answer was always 'Mun do'. "Who drank your juice, who ate your snack, Who knocked you over, hurt your back, Who's doing all these things to you ?" His answer was always 'Mun do'. But 'Mun' was little more than three, And so she played quite happily, And whether it was false or true, His answer was always 'Mun do'. And now our hair is turning grey, We laugh at what he used to say, And how almost as if on queue, His answer was always 'Mun do'. ----- Nature's Law The branches of coconut trees Are swaying in the evening breeze, As gentle waves lap at the shore, In harmony with Nature’s law. And far beyond the horizon, I spy a slowly dipping sun, The blazing sky inspires awe, In harmony with Nature’s law. While overhead the birds on wing Return from their daily outing In stark formation, without flaw, In harmony with Nature’s law. And I can smell the salty air, And all around me I can hear The sounds of evening, soft and pure, In harmony with Nature’s law. ----- Shared Assets "My love" she said "you'll always be "The one and only one for me, I like to spend, and you can pay, What's yours is mine too anyway." "I'll love you 'til the end of time, As long as rhythm has its rhyme, I promise I am here to stay, What's yours is mine too anyway." "Sweetheart" she says all dewy eyed, "I have a rather big surprise, I've spent more than I should today, What's yours is mine too anyway". "Well here's the score my artichoke, My sweetie pie, we are dead broke, Here's half the bills, just like you say What's mine is yours too anyway" ----- Steelband Music Listen to the music of the pan, Its something you cannot understand, A rhythm so sweet, Can't resist the beat. Even if you don't know how to dance, That tenor pan makes you take the chance, Brings you to your feet, Can't resist the beat. Whether it's calypso or folksong, Or classical piece you can't go wrong, You're in for a treat, Can't resist the beat. If you ever have the chance to hear Pan music played then please lend an ear. A musical feat, Can't resist the beat. ----- Taking stock I stand before the mirror because I want to know If the face reflected there is one I love; although I don't refer to features, like nose or mouth or chin, I need to know I'm happy inside of own skin. I have searched inside my heart, and in my head as well, No demons there to chase away, no fears to dispel, No grudges that I've harboured, few secrets deep within, I need to know I'm happy inside of my own skin. The eyes are windows to the soul, or they're meant to be, And now my own are shining, no more sad eyes for me, With the ups and downs of Life and everywhere I've been, I need to know I'm happy inside of my own skin. back to list |
Kathy AndersonThe morning crests with pain, So many memories will not wane. How my feelings linger for an age Never merely on passions page. There was no plan for us Just hopes of futures with trust. Were they dashed by cares wages, Never merely on passions page? Seasons rush by the by All perfect, as we sigh, Sighs become the words we rage Never merely on passions page. Dawns echo without a voice, Noons the measure of our choice. Was the trembling birds heart in a cage, Never merely on passions page? back to list |
Deborah BellLayoffs are scheduled down at the plant While the deficit rises and pay it we can't. Raise the limit, for Walmart's the trend. Sit on the fence, we must not offend. Parents ignore their children's aches When they can't afford what caring will take. No insurance, no money, their ills to attend. Sit on the fence, we must not offend. Civil rights are only meant to be broken For the rules restrict, our president's spoken. Only they know what evils portend, Sit on the fence, we must not offend. A city is drowned and lost in the flood Which cakes its streets in toxic mud. Residents still wait for promised amends, Sit on the fence, we must not offend. The elderly wade through bureaucracy's jargon Waiting to sign for their latest bargain. They'll save their money, Medicare contends. Sit on the fence, we must not offend. They've now discovered education's a mess. Middle class can't afford it, they all confess. Cut back on funding for grants to lend, Sit on the fence, we must not offend. Take your eyes off the lies and focus on gays, Women's choice and our other moral decays. One faith under God is all we'll defend. Sit on the fence, we must not offend. While we're at war we must not dissent. What kind of an image would that present? Support our troops by towing dead ends. Sit on the fence, we must not offend. Those in power have made all the rules. They hold the house and the crown jewels. What they are thinking, we can't comprehend, But sit on the fence, we must not offend. back to list |
Gloria CarpenterI need ideas. May I borrow? I cannot wait until tomorrow. It’s been awhile, a long delay. I have to write a roundelay. Perhaps about a mango sweet? A carnival? Calypso beat? Maryse has shared a fine bouquet. I have to write a roundelay. A dragon, then, of great renown, No, best be left to Willowdown. He’d take us there on wings of fae. I have to write a roundelay. Well, how about beneath the sea, With Helen and AlluraD? Perhaps they’d let me share the spray ~ I have to write a roundelay. Oh, how about a railroad poem, Along the track away from home? "All Aboard", I’d hear Gaer say. I have to write a roundelay. Or, maybe dreams caught in a web, Like Leny said, and Char or Deb, But I must keep my sleep at bay. I have to write a roundelay. Perhaps a ride on Kathy’s bus! Now that would really be a plus, To bump and grind with her in sway! I have to write a roundelay. Kev ~ to Iona we have been. Perhaps that’s where I will begin, But how will I get back there, pray? I have to write a roundelay. Perhaps I’ll check my primrose now. Lorraine can help me, she knows how. She’s in her garden everyday. I have to write a roundelay. So here we go ~ your challenge, T With rabbit, frog and owl, you see. If only I could go and play. I have to write a roundelay. ----- Happy Birthday Maryse It is a day to say hello and wish you all the best, you know, from all of us, the poet crew, ~ A happy birthday sent to you ~ Perhaps we'll have a chance to share calypso dancing, with a flair, and celebrate, as friends will do, ~ A happy birthday sent to you ~ We hope your day is filled with bliss, from dawning light to midnight kiss, and as the old year bids adieu, ~ A happy birthday sent to you ~ So many wishes for Maryse, as love is sent, to just increase the joys you see, through rainbow view, ~ A happy birthday sent to you ~ ----- His Name is Bruce He flies away on clouds of dragon dust, But wishes hold him close, as they adjust. No dire straits to cross, no shark abuse. A dragon shows the way. His name is Bruce. He leaves behind a tale of dragon lore, As children's eyes grow large with want of more, For magic has returned, has been set loose. A dragon shows the way. His name is Bruce. The children write in dragon code with ease. Imagination lends its expertise. No problem with amounts they can produce. A dragon shows the way. His name is Bruce. As letters pour with questions to translate And drawings colour worlds that they create, There are no limits set. What is the use? A dragon shows the way. His name is Bruce. ----- Ridgeback Dreams Enshrouded deep in mists of rippled waves, with leaden contours formed in overcast, exhausted plumes relieve, unburden caves, as mounds of ridgeback dragons rest at last. Their dreams, where dolphins swim and eagles fly, disperse in bursts of vision, unsurpassed, for, dreams they dream diffuse on wingèd cry, as mounds of ridgeback dragons rest at last. Surrendering in spirals, dreams dissolve in depths of such immensity, aghast, submerging slowly, swirling whirls revolve, as mounds of ridgeback dragons rest at last. Resurfacing as phosphorescent glow, evolving sapphire scales with tails so vast, send undulating serpents far below, as mounds of ridgeback dragons rest at last. back to list |
Allura DIn the temple of desire tended fires burn, inspire, spoken passion, once unknown- my love, I dance for you alone. Every breath in rhythm found, twirling here on holy ground, inhibition overthrown- my love, I dance for you alone. Tinkling bells on ankles, wrist, lips and eyes with visions kissed, undulating steps on stone- my love, I dance for you alone. On the altar, drenched in light heart and limb and soul unite, deeper bound than blood or bone- my love, I dance for you alone. back to list |
Lorraine DafneyWe're halfway to the stars above I'm so happy your my love To spend my life with and to share All the beauty fair Hold my hand we'll see the view I'm so very much in love with you Come dance with me look into my eyes, compare All the beauty fair See my tears flow sincerely For our lives thus far lovely As we gently dare All the beauty fair In my heart you'll always be I'm so content you love me With you beside me we shall see everywhere All the beauty fair back to list |
Gaer LlwydA fine young man is old Paul Swain As green as the Irish plain He is often known to moan In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" (pron.: pugga ma hone) In seeking one special phrase his ancestors spoke in praise years the words remained unknown In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" Friendly Sons of St. Patrick finally spoke those words, thick in brogue by which the Gaels all drone In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" Joyful, Paul began to shout and also did he run about on stickers and buttons he's thrown In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" Salty seafood inspector across the port will vector shouting at the monger crones In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" When lifting up his Guinness his fair land himself will bless a smiling toast will intone In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" New Bedforders are curious why Paul rants so furious indeed his voice is quite well known In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" In the port, now, all exult Paul's Emerald Island insult "Kiss my ass!" for all is known In Gaelic, "Pog mo Thoin!" back to list |
Kevin McKinneyI whisper words up to the moon Each night; and each day hum a tune In gratitude for the first rays Of the morning of all our days. I cannot fashion what's in store From fossil fragments of before; Nor reconstruct a perfect phase Of the morning of all our days. Yet if I fathom where I've been; Spotting hither for yonder's twin; Such news affords a better gaze Of the morning of all our days; To see beyond the distant hill Although it keeps retreating still; In spite of hardship and delays Of the morning of all our days; Till I stand firmly at the crown No more afraid of looking down On endless hilltops through the haze Of the morning of all our days. Realizing how far I've come Upon arrival, leaves me numb; In spite of which, my heart obeys; On the morning of all our days. ----- Slain'te The name my folks awarded me Announces my ethnicity; When people ask, I smile and say: Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! I am called Collumcille, the same As him who after Patrick came; Unlike the snakes, he got to stay. Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! I have a way with wit and word I'm told, and sing sweet as a bird; When on the guitar I do play, Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! I'm known to fight, and prone to drink; And for myself I like to think; And what I think, I like to say; Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! I hold a grudge against no man; As for the girls, I kiss 'em and Then soon or late we have our way; Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! I visited the ancient sod On which the Saint himself once trod; I nearly knelt me down to pray! Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! At last, for all ye reading here, A toast to long life and good cheer, And all the love I can convey; Sure every day's St. Patrick's Day! back to list |
Ryter RoethicleWe played so many simple games Unversed as yet in complex shames Spirited youth taught our hearts to pretend. Regretting now childhood's end. Searching far and wide for lasting proofs To justify our childish games As we would learn how to offend. Regretting now childhood's end. Guided still by innocent ideals To which we knew not yet the names Yet such innocence would lose us friends. Regretting now childhood's end. Love and hate we learned as truths Would fuel eternally our growing shame We learned we could never defend. Regretting now childhood's end. Oh child now grown, remember those games And the fantasies in which you would act Cherish now the innocence you cannot mend. Regretting now childhood's end. ----- Stardust The evening falls and you are gone, Too many memories left with you. Now my dreams have turned to rust, And Heaven merely Stardust. What happened to the plans we made, How could we let them fade? Were they blown away in a gust, And Heaven merely Stardust? Red sunsets call for perfect days And more perfect nights. Perfection's become a broken crust And Heaven merely Stardust. Mornings are filled with emptiness Days becoming lonelier too. Was your love simply based on lust And Heaven merely Stardust? ----- Walk of Liberty Walking in streets never roamed Besides houses that were never homes Eyes look out still, and at the source Remember, you still have force. There’s not a house with unlocked doors Grouped people inside, are still alone Their voice is low and much too hoarse Remember, you still have force. The sun never passes through the glass Or is ignored like promises cast aside Only by protest, will you change any course Remember, you still have force. Why sit around when work must be done Or stand around wondering what or why? It’s time to do, to act without remorse Remember, you still have force. Relevance in the way we do our things By popular vote the democratic way All that is happening how can you endorse Remember, you still have force.. back to list |
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