Ocarina – Rhymed

I have no idea who created this form. Thanks to Sara Gosa of Allpoetry.com for bringing it to my attention.
I can only tell you that it was published in the January 25, 1912 edition of New Age, and was written by Author Tulloch Cull.

To Anna Pavlova (Ocarina)
(In her dance “Le Cygne ” Musique de Saint-Saëns.)
I.
There came to me a vision of sweet song
Borne faintly forward on melodious streams,
A white Chimaera such as stirs the dreams
Of men, who sleep in solitudes and long
To people the dead wastes with strange desire
And breathe between the lips of ancient Death
Stretched mummified in deserts that new breath
That should revive them with its living fire.
II.
White was the vision, white as fiercest fire
And paler far its face than pallid Death,
Begotten of that brood, the Swan’s desire
Raised from frail Leda with its hissing breath.
And as it came its superhuman song
Sang of all those, whom wide relentless streams
Divide from their beloved, towards whom they long,
But whom they ne’er may clasp except in dreams.
III.
They strain to one another in their dreams
But never hear their lovers’ silent song
Pass spectrelike with gliding feet along
The halls of Sleep to Lethe’s stealthy streams
Till conies Old Age, a fouler foe than Death,
To mar the house of their divine desire
And smother with white ashes their young fire
Stifling their bodies’ perfumes with his breath.
IV.
Who of us mortals with ephemeral breath
That saw the vision, did not straight desire
To pass from perfect happiness to death
A holocaust of joy within the fire beneath
That from your cloudlike eyelids streams.
Having for elegy your supreme song
I would have died your death and passed to dreams
On that white breast, for which I longed so long.
V.
Half goddess and half swan, you seemed to long
With yearning eyes for those immortal dreams
Of far Olympus, where Peneus streams
Through Tempe’s hallowed vale. Yet in the song
Of feet and face and form I saw the fire
Of love for men, whose evanescent breath
Lends charm to wayward pleasures, watched by Death,
Who casts a glamour on short-lived desire.
VI.
All mortal sufferings and vain desire
Wept from your eyes and shook your tortured breath.
Yea, goddess though you were, the immortal fire
That shone from your white shape grew dim as Death.
I questioned of your Sorrow-Did you long
For Youth’s brief summer passed in rhythmic dreams
By winding ways of water, where the song
Of many birds mixed with the murmuring streams?
VII.
But though no answer pierced the plash of streams
Your arms that wavered swan-like seemed to long
And beckon for some mystery, which song
Might not reveal lying hid beyond our dreams.
Was it eternal youth, that your last breath
Invoked with prayers so passionate, that fire
Rekindled in those eyes, whose last desire
Was unto life, till clanked the feet of Death?
VIII.
For as you felt the drear approach of Death,
Your limbs relaxed and from your eyes the fire
Fled fainting forth : You drew one sobbing breath
That shook your shuddering wings, and your desire
Quailed before Death : Your hair, where darkness dreams,
Where Moon and Stars hold festival along
With queenly Night, fell forward in dark streams
About your face, and silenced was your song.
ENVOY.
Anna, my dreams find voice within the song
That from the fire of your sweet footsteps streams.
Though dreams and breath and song may pass along
Death’s ways, yet my desire defieth Death.
Author Notes
This poem appears in the January 25, 1912 edition of New Age. Found at library.brown .edu

Pasted from http://allpoetry.com/poem/11882810-To-Anna-Pavlova–Ocarina–by-A.-Tulloch-Cull

The Ocarina – Rhymed
A sestina discipline using 8 lines per verse and a 4 line enjoy for a 68 line poem

MUST be used to write a rhyming poem.
Its structure schematic is
12345678
86571243
31426587
75682134
43218765
57864312
24137856
68753421
With the envoy:
I corrected the occurrence of the words to create complete rhyme which the sample poem did not possess.
31 / 28 / 74 / 65Giving couplet internal rhyme and alternating end-rhyme

Rhyme scheme: Alternating envelope and alternate rhyme.
Rhyme pattern: 
1st abbacddc
2nd cdcdabab
3rd baabdccd
4th dcdcbaba
5th abbacddc
6th cdcdabab
7th baabdccd
8th dcdcbaba
Envoy:
(b/a)
(b/c)
(d/a)
(d/c)

 

Related forms: Bina, Canzone, Decrina, Newman Sestina, OcarinaOcarina – RhymedQuartina, Quintina, Sestina, Sestina – RhymedSidney’s Double Sestina, Tritina 

My Example

Christians for Breakfast (Ocarinai – Rhymed)

When people meet for breakfast just to pray
you know already they’ve a certain mind
a homogeneous group (all of one kind)
with similar beliefs upon display.
While all may not attend with spirit pure,
proclaiming Christ as lord still seems the rule.
Electorate they think they have to fool;
avowing unity makes men secure

I do not need to pray to be secure
I need a leader capable to rule.
He must embrace the tainted and the pure
and not in public act like such a fool.
The fact that all denominations pray
and deem they’re right, brings logic to my mind.
Is faith a no-lose place in which to play?
I denigrate them not, but I’m just kind.

I tolerate religions that are kind
and ask for things of goodness when they pray
but not those bringing evil into play
It’s dominance of others that I mind.
It’s easy to endorse the golden rule
and teaching benefits of staying pure
but Islam’s aim is clearly to secure
a dominance envisioned by a fool.

Now president Barrack has played the fool.
In race nor religion is Barry pure
so he had attributes to let him rule
as mediator making folks secure,
instead he’s pumped up strife in people’s mind.
Attacking Christians who came here to pray
for focusing on Moslems who aren’t kind-
revenge for the crusades is just fair play

By bringing those crusades now into play
(which were the Churches own response in kind)
to suppression of Christian life and mind
The Christians found it did no good to pray.
Nor will it ever. Men to be secure
must charge with force against the raging fool
who deems a pretend Caliphate must rule,
and fantasizes gift of virgins pure.

When extant spirituality’s pure,
one needs no fables fostered by a fool.
Connection to something makes one secure,
requiring no support from dogma’s rule.
A church is often but a place to play
at being good, where one can get a kind
of forgiveness for oft becoming prey
to urges which slip unbidden into mind

I don’t need dogma policing my mind
I know what’s right in thought and work and play,
and to know that, I never had to pray.
I really doubt that dogma makes one kind.
One’s character makes him a prince or fool.
Without a heaven I feel quite secure,
and fearing hell does not keep people pure
Dispense with dogma, let your conscious rule

The Koran preaches violence as the rule
all power to the Imam to secure
Though raised in Islam, Barry thought he’d fool
the public spouting eloquence and pure
nonsense about a change of different kind
none thought he’d bring religion into play.
Does evil infiltration come to mind?
‘Twould not be bad if all he did was pray

I did not mind the breakfast meet to pray;
‘Twas less than kind to put such hate in play
He fosters pure dissent, the bloody fool
Men will secure themselves from Islam rule.

© Lawrencealot – February 9, 2015

Ballade Stanza

A Ballade Stanza or Monk’s Tale Stanza (So named because it was used in  the Monk’s Tale in The Canterbury Tales (1386–1400) by Geoffrey Chaucer )
Is an ten syllable isosyllabic octave, usually written in conjunction with other stanzas (formally five stressed syllables)
Rhyme Scheme: ababbcbc

Example Poem

Reprieve      (Ballade Stanza)

My puppy wasn’t there when I got home
which was unusual in every way.
He’d always wait to play; he’d never roam.
“Honey- my grandma had sad things to say,
“Hit chasing car… then they took him away.”
I’d never cried the way I cried that night.
Surprise! His leg was in a cast next day;
the driver smiled and made my life alright.

© Lawrencealot – January 16, 2014

 

Visual Template

Awdl

Awdl
An awdl is a Welsh ode. Awdlau (that’s the plural) come in twelve different varieties, and it will take me a while to get through them all (if I ever do). All the poems on this page will be awdlau. 
There are 24 Welsh standard verse forms altogether. The other twelve are made up of eight kinds of englyn and four kinds of cywydd.
One important reservation: I believe all Welsh-language awdlau are required to exhibit some kind of cynghanedd in every line. In the descriptions below, this will not be mentioned (and in the examples, I will not attempt it). It is just too difficult and complicated for us non-Celts. If you really want to get to grips with this, I recommend the book Singing in Chains (see books page). 
As Confucius once remarked, the page of a dozen awdlau begins with a single form:
Hir a Thoddaid
According to Singing in Chains, the Hir a Thoddaid is the most common form of awdl nowadays. Here’s a silly example:
Lovesick
I take back what I said about your knees –
They hardly knock at all. Forgive me, please.
My meaning and my words are chalk and cheese.
I love to cuddle you. You’re not obese.
I have caught a rare disease of the heart
When I see you I start to want to sneeze.
I didn’t mean to speak ill of your chin.
In pointing out it emphasised how thin
Your body was, I thought I’d make you grin.
Is paying you such compliments a sin?
I see I’ll have to discipline my tongue –
The songs I would have sung must stay within.
I’m sure that I did not suggest your arms’
Uneven lengths failed to augment your charms.
Believe me, love, they caused me no alarms.
I’ve seen far worse on girls from local farms.
A little skewness often calms me down.
So please, my love, don’t send round the gendarmes.
I never did complain about your nose,
Although it’s quite surprising that you chose
That singular proboscis. I suppose
It makes you quite distinctive, like your clothes.
More easily described in prose than verse,
You’re better active, worse when in repose.
And darling, though it’s true I said you smelt,
I meant “of roses”, honestly! I’d spelt
It out clearly. I don’t know why you felt
That I’d been less than kind. You’re sweet, you’re svelte,
My poor heart raced when I knelt to request
Your hand. Your bum’s the best I’ve ever felt.
Each line has 10 syllables – in no particular metre, though I seem to have lapsed into iambic pentameter here. All lines of each stanza, except for the penultimate one, rhyme together in the conventional way. The penultimate line rhymes with them all in an unconventional way – its seventh, eighth or ninth syllable contains the rhyme. Furthermore, the word at the end of the penultimate line rhymes with a word somewhere in the middle of the last line. In the first stanza above, for example, there’s disease/sneeze and heart/start
The first 4 lines are the hir, and the last two are the toddaid (which mutates to thoddaid when you put the phrase together, due to the endearing pecularities of the Welsh language). The hir can have 2 lines or 6, rather than the 4 used here, but all its lines must always rhyme together. 
The books by Hopgood and Skelton agree about this form, and that’s good enough for me. Some sites on the web say the last line should have only 9 syllables, but I suspect they are wrong. 
And if you don’t believe CYNGHAHEDD makes this difficult poetry to write, with the expertise to determine is praiseworthy or even correct limited to a few Welsh and a very few other poets, take a look at what Wikipedia has to say about it

I have found little joy in reading such poems as they almost always appear stilted.

 

So I am (after viewing others) going with Bob Newman’s interpretation and recommendation – let those writing in English write enjoyable poetry.

Restated specification for Hir a Thoddaid:

A poem of either 6 or 8 lines.

Stanzaic:  Consisting of a hir (being either a mono-rhymed quatrain or sestet,

                   and a toddaid which is a couplet with interlaced rhyme.

Isosyllabic: 10 syllables

Rhymed: aaaa(ab)(ba)

 

Here is my example poem:

Crinoline Tease (Hir a Thoddaid)

 

You dressed in fancy silks and satin clothes 
and feather boas, hats, and nylon hose, 
and crinoline as well to augment those. 
and not in frequently you would expose 
a flash of flesh to decompose a guest. 
I liked that best, and therefore I proposed. 

Somehow you liked me wearing my plainclothes. 
You ate me up with eyes just like a doe’s. 
When we’re together we forget our woes 
I thrill to sit nearby when you repose 
and lean and touch you with my nose and lips 
and touch your breast and hips while still you pose. 

© Lawrencealot – December 26, 2013

 

Related Welsh Form are HERE.

 
Visual Template
 
 

Sestina – Swinburne’s Double

Swinburne’s Double Sestina
Type:
Structure, Metrical Requirement, End Word Requirement, Isosyllabic
Description:
Algernon Charles Swinburne developed the double sestina, a twelve-line, twelve stanza form with a six line envoi for the masochistic poet.
Impressions:
Not for the faint of heart or taciturn soul.
Attributed to:
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Origin:
English
Schematic:
stanza 1: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
stanza 2: 12 1 9 11 4 7 2 8 3 10 6 5
stanza 3: 5 12 6 4 7 1 2 3 10 9 11 8
stanza 4: 8 5 7 6 4 12 10 2 3 11 1 9
stanza 5: 9 8 6 10 1 2 7 4 3 12 5 11
stanza 6: 11 9 6 10 4 2 7 1 12 8 5 3
stanza 7: 3 11 7 8 12 1 2 10 5 6 9 4
stanza 8: 4 3 9 6 5 10 1 7 12 11 8 2
stanza 9: 2 4 5 1 3 8 7 10 9 11 12 6
stanza 10: 6 2 9 3 8 1 7 5 10 4 11 12
stanza 11: 12 6 8 4 3 5 9 10 2 1 11 7
stanza 12: 7 12 6 3 9 11 5 8 4 2 10 1
envoy: 12 10/8 9/7 4/3 6/2 1/11 5
Rhythm/Stanza Length:
12
Line/Poem Length:
150
Status:
Incomplete
 A special thanks to Charles L. Weatherford for his work on this site which is always a dependable resouce.
The Double Sestina
This cannot, in all honesty, be recommended… it’s similar to a sestina, but has twelve keywords, twelve 12-line stanzas, and a 6-line tornada, making 150 lines in all. The only example I have been able to find is, heaven help us, a rhymed double sestina, by Swinburne. The keywords are: breath, her, way, death, sunflower, sun, day, bed, thee, dead, done, me (which gives you a fair idea of the flavour of the thing); so the rhyming pairs are (1,4) (2,5) (3,7) (6,11) (8,10) (9,12).  The structure is:
stanza 1: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
stanza 2: 12 1 9 11 4 7 2 8 3 10 6 5
stanza 3: 5 12 6 4 7 1 2 3 10 9 11 8
stanza 4: 8 5 7 6 4 12 10 2 3 11 1 9
stanza 5: 9 8 6 10 1 2 7 4 3 12 5 11
stanza 6: 11 9 6 10 4 2 7 1 12 8 5 3
stanza 7: 3 11 7 8 12 1 2 10 5 6 9 4
stanza 8: 4 3 9 6 5 10 1 7 12 11 8 2
stanza 9: 2 4 5 1 3 8 7 10 9 11 12 6
stanza 10: 6 2 9 3 8 1 7 5 10 4 11 12
stanza 11: 12 6 8 4 3 5 9 10 2 1 11 7
stanza 12: 7 12 6 3 9 11 5 8 4 2 10 1
tornada: 12 10/8 9/7 4/3 6/2 1/11 5
You may think you want to write one of these, but you really don’t, believe me. And if you should get it into your head that you want to write an unrhymed double sestina, you’re going to have to work out the structure for yourself.
It is with great thanks I applaud Bob Newman’s efforts on his site, and his advice in the instance.  I believe I shall pass on an attempt to write one of these this month. 

The Complaint of Lisa
There is no woman living who draws breath
So sad as I, though all things sadden her.
There is not one upon life’s weariest way
Who is weary as I am weary of all but death.
Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower
All day with all his whole soul toward the sun;
While in the sun’s sight I make moan all day,
And all night on my sleepless maiden bed.
Weep and call out on death, O Love, and thee,
That thou or he would take me to the dead.
And know not what thing evil I have done
That life should lay such heavy hand on me.

Alas! Love, what is this thou wouldst with me?
What honor shalt thou have to quench my breath,
Or what shall my heart broken profit thee?
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done,
That thou shouldst hunger so after my death?
My heart is harmless as my life’s first day:
Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her
Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed:
I am the least flower in thy flowery way,
But till my time be come that I be dead,
Let me live out my flower-time in the sun,
Though my leaves shut before the sunflower.

O Love, Love, Love, the kingly sunflower!
Shall he the sun hath looked on look on me,
That live down here in shade, out of the sun,
Here living in the sorrow and shadow of death?
Shall he that feeds his heart full of the day
Care to give mine eyes light, or my lips breath?
Because she loves him, shall my lord love her
Who is as a worm in my lord’s kingly way?
I shall not see him or know him alive or dead;
But thou, I know thee, O Love, and pray to thee
That in brief while my brief life-days be done,
And the worm quickly make my marriage-bed.

For underground there is no sleepless bed.
But here since I beheld my sunflower
These eyes have slept not, seeing all night and day
His sunlike eyes, and face fronting the sun.
Wherefore, if anywhere be any death,
I fain would find and fold him fast to me,
That I may sleep with the world’s eldest dead,
With her that died seven centuries since, and her
That went last night down the night-wandering way.
For this is sleep indeed, when labor is done,
Without love, without dreams, and without breath,
And without thought, O name unnamed! of thee.

Ah! but, forgetting all things, shall I thee?
Wilt thou not be as now about my bed
There underground as here before the sun?
Shall not thy vision vex me alive and dead,
Thy moving vision without form or breath?
I read long since the bitter tale of her
Who read the tale of Launcelot on a day,
And died, and had no quiet after death,
But was moved ever along a weary way,
Lost with her love in the underworld; ah me,
O my king, O my lordly sunflower,
Would God to me, too, such a thing were done!

But if such sweet and bitter things be done,
Then, flying from life, I shall not fly from thee.
For in that living world without a sun
Thy vision will lay hold upon me dead,
And meet and mock me, and mar my peace in death.
Yet if being wroth, God had such pity on her,
Who was a sinner and foolish in her day,
That even in hell they twain should breathe one breath,
Why should he not in some wise pity me?
So if I sleep not in my soft strait bed,
I may look up and see my sunflower
As he the sun, in some divine strange way.

O poor my heart, well knowest thou in what way
This sore sweet evil unto us was done.
For on a holy and a heavy day
I was arisen out of my still small bed
To see the knights tilt, and one said to me
“The king;” and seeing him, somewhat stopped my breath;
And if the girl spake more, I heard her not,
For only I saw what I shall see when dead,
A kingly flower of knights, a sunflower,
That shone against the sunlight like the sun,
And like a fire, O heart, consuming thee,
The fire of love that lights the pyre of death.

Howbeit I shall not die an evil death
Who have loved in such a sad and sinless way,
That this my love, lord, was no shame to thee.
So when mine eyes are shut against the sun,
O my soul’s sun, O the world’s sunflower,
Thou nor no man will quite despise me dead.
And dying I pray with all my low last breath
That thy whole life may be as was that day,
That feast-day that made trothplight death and me,
Giving the world light of thy great deeds done;
And that fair face brightening thy bridal bed,
That God be good as God hath been to her.

That all things goodly and glad remain with her,
All things that make glad life and goodly death;
That as a bee sucks from a sunflower
Honey, when summer draws delighted breath,
Her soul may drink of thy soul in like way,
And love make life a fruitful marriage-bed
Where day may bring forth fruits of joy to day
And night to night till days and nights be dead.
And as she gives light of her love to thee,
Give thou to her the old glory of days long done;
And either give some heat of light to me,
To warm me where I sleep without the sun.

O sunflower make drunken with the sun,
O knight whose lady’s heart draws thine to her,
Great king, glad lover, I have a word to thee.
There is a weed lives out of the sun’s way,
Hid from the heat deep in the meadow’s bed,
That swoons and whitens at the wind’s least breath,
A flower star-shaped, that all a summer day
Will gaze her soul out on the sunflower
For very love till twilight finds her dead.
But the great sunflower heeds not her poor death,
Knows not when all her loving life is done;
And so much knows my lord the king of me.

Ay, all day long he has no eye for me;
With golden eye following the golden sun
From rose-colored to purple-pillowed bed,
From birthplace to the flame-lit place of death,
From eastern end to western of his way,
So mine eye follows thee, my sunflower,
So the white star-flower turns and yearns to thee,
The sick weak weed, not well alive or dead,
Trod under foot if any pass by her,
Pale, without color of summer or summer breath
In the shrunk shuddering petals, that have done
No work but love, and die before the day.

But thou, to-day, to-morrow, and every day,
Be glad and great, O love whose love slays me.
Thy fervent flower made fruitful from the sun
Shall drop its golden seed in the world’s way,
That all men thereof nourished shall praise thee
For grain and flower and fruit of works well done;
Till thy shed seed, O shining sunflower,
Bring forth such growth of the world’s garden-bed
As like the sun shall outlive age and death.
And yet I would thine heart had heed of her
Who loves thee alive; but not till she be dead.
Come, Love, then, quickly, and take her utmost breath.

Song, speak for me who am dumb as are the dead;
From my sad bed of tears I send forth thee,
To fly all day from sun’s birth to sun’s death
Down the sun’s way after the flying sun,
For love of her that gave thee wings and breath
Ere day be done, to seek the sunflower.
Algernon Charles Swinburne

Rishal

The Rishal is a recent invented form which appears to be a “chained” version of the Terza Rima without a linking rhyme. It was created by “Chindarella” at All Poetry.

Stanzaic:                Three tercet stanzas plus a single line stanza
Isosyllabic:             Decasyllabic lines  (10 syllables) (10/10/10)
Rhyme Pattern:   aba cdc efe ghg x (end-rhyme and internal rhyme)
Refrain:                 The first line of each stanza consists of two
five syllable sections, The last section of line 1
becomes the first section of line 1 in the next stanza.

The 2nd line in each stanza must have internal rhyme with the 5th syllable
rhyming with the 10th.

The final line does not need to rhyme;

____

The Rishal is:
○ Stanzaic, written in 3 or more tercets with a concluding single line, the same as the Terza Rima.
○ Syllabic rather than metric, lines of 10 syllables each, (iambic pentameter without the iambic pattern requirement). L1 of each stanza is written in 2 hemistiches.
○ Rhymed, internal rhyme is employed in L2 of each stanza, the 5th syllable of the line rhyming with the end syllable, (I imagine a little flexibility in the placement of the internal rhyme could be overlooked by other than the purist.) Rhyme scheme a (b-b) a / c ( d-d) c / e (f-f) e / etc . The single end line is unrhymed.
○ Written in a chain from stanza to stanza by repeating the 2nd hemistich of L1 of the previous stanza in the 1st hemistich of L1 of the next stanza and so on. . . including the last single line repeating the 2nd hemistich of L1 of the previous stanza as the 1st hemistich of the single line

Pasted from http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/index.php?showtopic=1146
My thanks to Judi Van Gorder for years of work on this fine PMO resource.

Example Poem

NOTE: It was confirmed by Chindarella on DEC. 26th, 2014 that the original specifications for the Rishal were for exactly three tercets, not three or more.  

All But Children Know  (Form: Rishal)

We all are forewarned, no one is surprised.
Though death awaits all, we all may ride tall.
We can’t write death out; script can’t be revised.

No one is surprised that our days will end
By some grand design, while most parts are fine
there are no clues that Death’s presence portend.

That our days will end, all but children know.
How poor we’d be served if fear were deserved.
Such in not the case, play, love, give, then go.

All but children know what we have is now.

(c) Lawrencealot -April 29, 2013

Visual Template

Rishal

 
 

Sestina – Conventional

The sestina (less commonly, though more correctly, sextain) is a wondrous strange beast, the brainchild of a twelfth-century Provençal troubador. It doesn’t use rhyme; instead, it has six keywords essential to the poem’s structure. The poem’s 39 lines – six 6-line stanzas followed by a 3-line envoi or tornada – all end with one of the keywords; in the tornada, there are two keywords in each line, one of them at the end and the other somewhere in the middle. It may all begin to make sense if we try an example.
stanza 1: 123456
stanza 2: 615243
stanza 3: 364125
stanza 4: 532614
stanza 5: 451362
stanza 6: 246531
This is the prescribed order for a sestina – at least, for an unrhymed one. (Yes, there are rhymed ones too. This is a variation dealt with later.) No deviation from this order is tolerated.
However, there are several different possible orders for the keywords in the tornada (“tornada schemes“).
The popular schemes are 12/34/56, 14/25/3625/43/61 and 65/24/31. Pretty well anything goes, really.
You’ll notice that each keyword appears once in the first line of a stanza, once in the second line of a stanza, and so on. You may also notice that the permutations of the keywords follow a regular pattern. It’s all a bit like bell-ringing. Or mathematical group theory, for that matter.
At 39 lines, the sestina is eligible for poetry competitions with a 40-line limit. (Perhaps they used to have a lot of those in Provence.)
The greatest thanks to Bob Newman of Volecentral for this.  His site is an excellent resource.
My Example
Forget Me, She Said ( A Sestina)
I forgot to remember you had left.
Your need to grow required that you must go
find space unoccupied.  I neither made
you whole nor satisfied your unquenched thirst.
“Just forget me; go play and have some fun,”
You told me, “You’re a prize for someone new.”
I’d never even wanted someone new
and still did not, once you had really left.
My love for you, I should replace with fun
and sparkle like a dandy on the go.
“Just forget me; let hotties quench your thirst.
You’ll be the grandest catch that someone’s made.”
Attempts to dissuade you were often made
for weeks while you sought something somewhere new.
But only total change could quell your thirst.
And memories were all that I had left.
Without sharia law you’re free to go
and with it, holding you would be no fun.
Then, for my boys, I dated, and had fun.
I was astounded by the progress made
as I was learning dating on the go.
Once my small son asked “Will she be our new
mommy?” At least he’d realized you’d left.
I began courting with a new found thirst.
Forever buoyed by an abiding thirst
for laughs enjoyed when shared, my quest was fun.
I laid my love for you aside. That left
a vacancy and soon fresh feeling made
inroads to my reluctant heart and new
responses sang as guilt began to go.
Your leaving forced me to let my love go
as death could not have done.  So, now a thirst
was normal and not faithless search for new
absolution perhaps just based in fun.
When not allowed to keep the promise made
New love was deemed okay because you left.
The fact you had to go was never fun.
I hope you’ve quenched the thirst inside that made
you leave. I’ve loved in new ways since you left.
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Swap Ottava


Created by Discoveria of Allpoetry.com.

The form has an Ottava Rima framework in which the sections of the first line are swapped to become the last line of the stanza.
 
A Double Swap Ottava
requires that technique to be applied to two of the early lines, normally Line 1 and 2, to become the closing couplet of the octet.
 
 
Minimum length 8 Lines, no maximum
Meter: Iambic pentameter
Rhyme: ababaabcc
 
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Example Poem:


Synchonicty   (Swap Ottava)

 
A random meet- a gift of God’s great plan.
She stepped into the bus I seldom take. 
I looked at her is how it all began. 
I found her cute, I was not on the make. 
My glance became a stare as a glance can. 
Our eyes met, then moved on for manner’s sake. 
She looked again ,and smiled; the smile was sweet.
A gift of God’s great plan– a random meet.

 
It is likely by chance: meeting a mate. 
This woman’s smile was brief, beguiling,  true. 
Not just her lips, but her eyes were more bait. 
I’d hoped that my face invited her too. 
My shyness abated… let me test fate. 
There may be no chance if I now eschew 
risking rejection.  I’ll ask her to dance. 
Meeting a mate: it is likely by chance.

 
One out of three: seems like the odds are fine 
This lady gave me her number and said, 
“I think I’d like that, but first let us dine”. 
A note for ladies… you take charge instead. 
Meet where you can leave if  things misalign. 
‘Cause likely, like me, guys want you in bed.
Results run the gamut, but try, be free. 
Seems like the odds are fine: one out of three. 
 


(c) Lawrencealot – April, 2012


Example of Double Swap Ottava



Social Schism  (Double Swap Ottava)

Some do less, some do more to help the whole. 

all members knew the score when tribes were small. 
Great hunters, all the members would extoll. 
Their prowess was a benefit for all. 
The tribes were healthy when each played their role, 
Our tribe will fail if no one heeds that call. 
When tribes were small all members knew the score. 
To help the whole,  some do less, some do more. 

© Lawrencealot – January 2, 2013 

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