April,
and the year began dying
and the year began dying
slowly into darkness out of the light,
its warmth going cold. I’m crying
recalling our summer: lying
entwined, unaware on that balmy night
how the year began dying
already – time (as they tell us) flying.
Though we set the night alight,
our warmth would go cold. I’m crying
to realise that all of our trying
could never stop time in its flight
nor the year in its dying,
the love we could not hold defying
only so briefly what the world held right,
its warmth going cold despite our crying.
Summer turned autumn; our denying
as useless as arms clutching tight.
The year went on dying,
its warmth going cold. I’m crying.
Note: April is mid-Autumn in the Southern Hemisphere, but in March the Summer tends to linger.
Note: April is mid-Autumn in the Southern Hemisphere, but in March the Summer tends to linger.
Written for April Poetry Month 2019 to the prompt April Come She Will at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.
Also submitted to dVerse's Forms for all – the Villanelle. (This poem demanded to be another villanelle, as I have been practising them with increasing delight for the last few days.)
Also submitted to dVerse's Forms for all – the Villanelle. (This poem demanded to be another villanelle, as I have been practising them with increasing delight for the last few days.)
The villanelle... so challenging but so simple and clean with your deft pen, Rosemary. This is lovely and I feel a bit like this though spring is arriving here.
ReplyDeleteLove the rhymes and what a beautiful dedication to the april.
ReplyDeleteWow! Rosemary, you raised the bar with this brilliant villanelle! I am so impressed, and I love this stanza:
ReplyDeleteto realise that all of our trying
could never stop time in its flight
nor the year in its dying...
It so perfectly encapsulates the mood of the whole.
This is such an accomplished Villanelle, Rosemary!💞 I love the subtle lilt and cadence in this 😊 and felt like being swept off my feet 💞💞
ReplyDeleteAutumnal poems are some of the most poignant. No exception here.
ReplyDeleteRosemary your have touched the Villanelle with the lightest of rhymes and woven a most touching poem - it is beautiful and memorable:
ReplyDelete"Though we set the night alight,
our warmth would go cold. I’"
Thank you for this *fine* villanelle.
ReplyDeleteThis is a rather spectacular villanelle, my friend. So moving, the repetition of the month growing cold and "I'm crying". So very moving.
ReplyDeleteYour villanelle is tinged with sorrow, Rosemary, which is emphasised by the dying/crying rhymes, the repetition of warmth going cold, and no happy ending. I’m bowled over by the final stanza.
ReplyDeleteWow, that was superb. Loved the flow -- effortless. Passion and pleasure hidden in the suffering. Wish my second one had flowed so nicely.
ReplyDeleteSometimes it is the brief encounter that is to be cherished!! Somethings just can't last...the seasons, and the time of our youth. Nice poem!
ReplyDeleteSo effortless was the flow of this poem I did not recognize it as a villanelle until I read the comments. Such sadness in poems of autumn. Lovely and most accomplished.
ReplyDeleteAutumn poems always seem to have a bit of melancholy. Your poem is beautiful. It feels like an expression of how quickly loved one leaves us.
ReplyDeleteTelling it like it can be, Rosemary. I lived your season over one thirteen years span. And I cried at the end, sobbed. But a second Mrs. Jim and I has lasted 46 years now.
ReplyDelete..
Oh, that's fabulous. So much technical expertise, but for me it's the tone, the capturing of that melancholy of autunm. It's wonderfully done.
ReplyDeleteYes, April can mean autumn! Lovely villanelle!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely tender and lovely.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful and vulnerable... I enjoyed the unhurried pace as well. Strong opening.
ReplyDeleteNice variations in this line: "The year went on dying,"
ReplyDelete