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Rondel Poetry Form

Anyone who’s followed this blog for a while knows that I love the French poetic forms, so it’s about time I covered the rondel, since it’s a close cousin to the rondeau and triolet.

Here are the rondel poetry form rules:

  1. Poem consists of 13 lines in 3 stanzas
  2. Rhyme scheme: ABba/abAB/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains)
  3. Usually 8 syllables per line

 

If you wish to write a rondel prime (or supreme), add a 14th line. In fact, rondel prime sounds pretty cool.

Here’s my attempt at a rondel poem:

“Some Good”

Every day, there is some good;
every day, there is some bad.
Don’t worry about what you had
or waste your time knocking on wood,

because this life’s misunderstood,
and there’s no reason to get mad–
every day, there is some good;
every day, there is some bad.

Crime happens in all neighborhoods,
though in some crime is just a fad.
If you live somewhere safe, be glad
you’re well off. Elevate your mood–
every day, there is some good.

*****

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*****

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13 thoughts on “Rondel Poetry Form

  1. tjholt

    I somehow missed this this. I enjoy working in forms and this one was fun. Here is mine
    Timm Holt http://www.timmholt.com

    STARRY NIGHT a rondel

    When stars sprinkle fairy dust flies
    and dreamers dreams hang on the moon.
    Collect all your hopes; string a festoon;
    celebrate before the night dies.

    Remember we are but mayflies
    and the time to dream ends to soon.
    When stars sprinkle fairy dust flies
    and dreamers dreams hang on the moon.

    Do not wait tomorrow’s sunrise
    or think your wishes only jejune,
    for dithering is only for a loon;
    life imparts no one a reprise.
    When stars sprinkle fairy dust flies
    and dreamers dreams hang on the moon.

  2. julie e.

    This was fun! i haven’t done much of poetry forms and i like the challenge!

    I REMEMBER.

    When I miss you I remember
    sandwiches from the coffee shop,
    fingers cold I let mine drop
    in the park in late December.

    Noses, cheeks glow, bright red embers
    laughing, giggling, we couldn’t stop
    When I miss you I remember
    sandwiches from the coffee shop.

    Gone the sun of past September
    gone the freedom of my flip-flops
    comes the chill as temperature drops.
    Warmth I felt in that December
    when I miss you, I remember.

  3. Sara McNulty

    The Sleep Method

    When I’m upset I tend to sleep,
    My escape from realities.
    Oh what delicious fantasies
    Become yours for a price so cheap.

    Under the blankets, sinking deep
    The mind can dream up novelties
    My escape from realities.
    When I’m upset I tend to sleep.

    Slivers of light begin to creep
    Under my eyelids stealthily,
    Warning me of how unhealthily
    I am living, in huddled heap.
    When I’m upset I tend to sleep.

  4. taylor graham

    DOG TIME AND SPACE

    The old dog grumbles, sniffs the changing air
    and curls up in a corner, waits his place –
    and finds a puppy occupies that space
    of worlds revolving days and years. So where

    do has-beens summon up the stare-down-stare,
    the once-swift moves? He used to be the ace.
    The old dog grumbles, sniffs the changing air
    and curls up, in a corner; waits his place.

    He’s trusty. But she’s fancy-flight, she’s flare
    and pirouette. She’s whiz and steeplechase.
    Remember when the old dog had such grace?
    He seeks his corner, she’s already there.
    The old dog grumbles, sniffs the changing air.

  5. PowerUnit

    When we walked hand in hand
    Under a gray northern sky
    You wondered about this land
    And you started to cry

    Your feet yearned for hot sand
    This new country a lie
    Under a gray northern sky
    When we walked hand in hand

    The night it was so grand
    Excitement you couldn’t deny
    Your spirits lifted so high
    And your heart beat to the band
    When we walked, hand in hand.

  6. Miss R.

    Snowfall

    The snow falls, all gentle and sweet,
    Covering over hill and road.
    We are all glad that it has snowed,
    For we are safe ’neath quilt and sheet.

    Others, lacking shelter and heat,
    Shiver as winter drops her load,
    Covering over hill and road.
    The snow falls, all gentle and sweet.

    The frozen lie in other streets,
    Far from our own cheery abode.
    Ignorance is the devil’s goad;
    Charity comes at its retreat.
    The snow falls, all gentle and sweet.

  7. taylor graham

    LIVE-OAK

    This ridge where oaks root into stone
    has seen such changes over time.
    The brushy hills we used to climb
    are bulldozed for those homes that own

    the river-view. Now, gardens sown
    with elves and bells for winds to chime –
    this ridge where oaks root into stone
    has seen such changes over time.

    I find back-paths when I’m alone,
    through brush and stunted trees that mime
    a living forest; leaves that rhyme
    with loss. It’s only here on-loan,
    this ridge where oaks root into stone.

  8. Connie Peters

    The Party’s Started

    “The party’s started,” this I say
    When the household begins to rise
    “Time to get up” the phrase implies
    “Like it or not, let’s start the day!”

    A bit sarcastic is my way
    Knowing our life tends to surprise
    When the household begins to rise
    “The party’s started,” this I say

    Let there be laughter, come what may
    Though sleep’s sand still rests in our eyes
    There will be music, if we’re wise
    Eating, dancing, singing and play
    “The party’s started,” this I say

  9. RJ Clarken

    Private Concert

    With earbuds in, I am a song.
    The song is loud and full of bass.
    I close my eyes, and breathing space
    becomes the place where I belong.

    Depends on mood, It can be strong
    (when none can hear my tuneless grace.)
    The song is loud and full of bass.
    With earbuds in, I am a song.

    I don’t think it is ever wrong
    to find an air and then embrace
    the notes, as if you’re giving chase,
    secluded from the bustling throng.
    With earbuds in, I am a song.

    ###

    Thanks for the highlight on this form, Robert. I love rhyming poetry, as you probably might have guessed. I like your poem – kind of like a mantra.

    1. RJ Clarken

      Um…little rewrite. … and again, thanks. ♥

      Private Concert

      With earbuds in, I am a song.
      My song is loud and full of bass.
      I close my eyes, and breathing space
      becomes the place where I belong.

      Depends on mood: I can be strong
      (when none can hear my tuneless grace.)
      My song is loud and full of bass.
      With earbuds in, I am a song.

      I don’t think it is ever wrong
      to find an air and then embrace
      the notes, as if you’re giving chase,
      secluded from the bustling throng.
      With earbuds in, I am a song.

      ###

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