Rondelet, small Flowers of Verse

[written_leaves]

A sweet little verse form

The rondelet is French in origin, a short poem of a single septet (that is, 7 lines long), with only two rhymes, and one refrain, which is repeated. The result is, I think, very like flower petals working their way around a flower, small and soft but with a grace and closure I find lacking in some other short forms, such as haiku.


Outside the gate,
Away, the notice is sending -
Outside the gate,
Come clopping hooves in dusty state,
Long-planned journey thus is ending,
Here arrives an old befriending,
Outside the gate.


Leaves in the wood
(Ever young, ever old) -
Leaves in the wood,
A haven where a promise stood.
She keeps their colors; silver, gold
The sun and moon here both enfold
Leaves in the wood.


Longbottom Leaf,
Richly scented, golden brown.
Longbottom Leaf -
Cut and dried, hung in fragrant sheaf,
A pipe well-filled and well tamped down,
The finest treat in all the town -
Longbottom Leaf.


Valiant maid;
In the darkness you shine so bright.
Valiant maid,
As all around your banner fades,
You make a stand against that might;
With courage face a King of Night,
Valiant maid.


In Pippin's eyes,
The world lay green within the Shire.
In Pippin's eyes,
The truth was clear; they found no lies
After that fate, Dark ball of fire -
By honesty the Light was higher
In Pippin's eyes.


A silver spoon -
She kept it safe and hoped for more.
A silver spoon,
Rounded and shining as the moon,
Beside the fork within the drawer.
He has them, but she's longing for
A silver spoon.


Beyond the sea,
Away my kin are stealing.
Beyond the sea,
They'll not turn back for any plea;
Old promises they're sealing,
The deepest wounds soon healing
Beyond the sea.


There is no time -
The forces move across the land.
There is no time,
This hour we fall, or else we shine.
The pieces move as if they're planned,
An Age of men I've made my stand;
There is no time.


Promised, Master -
He promised us beside the pool:
Promised Master,
Night was passing ever faster,
No one will harm. We were a fool,
He used, abused us! Hard and cruel -
Promised! Master...


Greenest fields,
Rohan's proudest crests upon them.
Greenest fields,
To the burning they'll never yield,
Around the horses they are hemmed,
Amongst them do Three Hunters blend;
Greenest fields.


We baked a cake,
September's day -
We baked a cake,
Rememb'ring whom the Road did take;
It swept him someplace far away,
Not yet to follow...now I stay...
We baked a cake.