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

Quintina

I noticed that there were two gaps in the series of Sestina-like poetry form.  This fills one of those.
Quintina  –
Keyword Requirement
Five line version of the Sestina with end-word enfolding.
Created by Lawrence R. Eberhart
Origin: USA
Schematic
12345
54231
21453
43512
35124
Envoy
12/345
Example poem
Will Google Know? (Quintina)Intelligent devices in each home,
has been a goal for Nest-they’ve led the way
with thermostats that learn their master’s wants
as actions tell them all they need to know.
Now Google bought Nest; you know what that means.

They’ve added sensors to their mining means.
What you like and frequently view they know
already. Photographs along the way
may show your house if any person wants
wants virtual travel on streets to your home.

Where you take pictures, they know by the way,
from cell-phone sensors when you leave your home,
and e-mail topic they already know
No cell or e-mail? This gives other means
to know some more about your daily wants.

They claim that privacy rules but you know
about a camel’s nose and growing wants
and Google tie-ins and just what that means.
The Nest products enhance a modern home,
providing cost-savings along the way.

If unconcerned for any one who wants
that data for less than scrupulous means
and one can spoof their own device at home
and benefit from pets another way
so sensors might not know just what they know.

Are you at home, or have you gone away?
If Google wants to know they’ll have the means.

© January 15, 2014 – Lawrencealot

Visual Template
Quintina

Ocarina

Ocarina
Type:
Structure, Metrical Requirement, End Word Requirement, Isosyllabic
Description:
Sestina with eight lines per verse for a total of 68 lines.
Attributed to:
Bob Newman
Origin:
England
Schematic:
12345678
85274163
34567812
27416385
56781234
41638527
78123456
63852741
With the envoy:
12 / 34 / 56 / 78
Rhythm/Stanza Length:
8
Line/Poem Length: 
68

Thanks to Charles L. Weatherford.

Note: on Feb 7, 2015, it was brought to my attention Ocarina existed in 1912 with a rhyming schematic.

I will interpret the schematic and list it separately as  Ocarina – Rhymed.

Example Poem
Our Special Place     (Ocarina)
We both embrace this very special place.
When we feel stressed we come for play and rest
it seems sedate and wills all woes to wait.
Don’t you abhor the daily quest for more,
the circular rat-race, the hectic pace
that takes away the willingness to play?
I feel no need to cuss and join the rush
to join the game without our taking aim.
When first we came seclusion was our aim.
Here is a space with tranquil quiet pace
Who would have guessed that just by seeking rest
we’d find a lust for nature’s thrilling rush.
We set out to explore the place, and more,
each other’s face, less lined when in this place.
Most everyday we find that we must play
and let the freight of daily commerce wait.
Arriving late, I caused for you a wait,
but you weren’t sore at all; there’s so much more
encasing one in splendor that the pace
of life gives way and waiting too,  is play.
Your sudden blush invited me to rush
for thoughts un-tame had warned of my aim.
With no disgrace we sanctified the place
as we progressed from urgency, to rest
Upon your breast I’ll lay my hand and rest
among the brush, no longer in a rush.
We swim, explore, embrace in lust once more-
enjoy the pace afforded by this place,
the air’s sachet, the squirrels near, at play.
When calmed by mate the world can always wait-
no other game shares a more lofty aim
than kissing face and slowing down our pace.
At home a flash of lace turns up the pace
at end of day and says you want to play,
but here no such a proxy starts my rush;
natural nudeness claims our bodies’ aim.
My fingers trace pathways to everyplace
where I have pressed my lips and all the rest
I plan to sate with out delay, but wait
we both adore the wait; we’ll wait some more.
The forest floor, one blanket, nothing more
this is our base that turns this tranquil place
with water’s spray into a place to play
and actuate our fantasies and wait
and frame thoughts seeking any greater aim.
There is no race and we both love this pace,
though I’m molested ’til I need a rest.
I would have to blush were it not a rush.
There’s still the push to weekly join the rush
and play that game which is commerce’s aim.
We chase the credits in the market place
Though not obsessed we act just like the rest
and that equates to working while we wait
the week-end to restore ourselves once more.
It’s not the case that we can’t stand the pace
of life’s buffet- we just take time to play.
It’s quite cliché you must mix work and play-
accommodate the mundane while you wait
for fame and wealth if that ‘s part of your aim.
Yet you can brace your soul at any pace
and live with zest if you take time to rest.
Avoid the crush resulting from the rush
and go explore a place where less is more
and in our case that means our special place.
This is a place where both of us may rest,
where waters wait and pause before their more
determined pace resumes, and we can play
without the rush that sometimes seems our aim.
© Lawrencealot – January 10, 2014
Visual Template

Sidney’s Double Sestina

This is posted only for the specifications.  This poet having recently penned a Quartina, an Ocrina,  a Decrina and a Canzone has come up dry at the moment for inspiration for this 75 line poem.
 
Sidney’s Double Sestina
Type:
Structure, Metrical Requirement, End Word Requirement, Isosyllabic
Description:
Sir Phillip Sidney wrote a double sestina where the pattern was just duplicated in verses 7-12, while his envoy had the scheme: 5/2 3/4 1/6. At least he wasn’t as dotty as Swinburne.
Attributed to:
Sir Phillip Sidney
Origin:
English
Schematic:
123456
615243
364125
532614
451362
246531
123456
615243
364125
532614
451362
246531
Envoy: 5/2 3/4 1/6.
Rhythm/Stanza Length:
6
Line/Poem Length:
75

Canzone

I am simply including the inventor’s description here, but note, in my template, I have replaced the capital letters with numbers to indicate the chosen words.
I feel this is more conventional or soon should be.
Canzone
The canzone is an Italian form with strong similarities to the sestina. There are no rhymes; instead there are five keywords that determine the structure of the poem. Every line of the poem – and there are 65 lines altogether – ends with one of the keywords, which must appear in a prescribed order.
Here’s one I made earlier:
Bananas
As will be plain to people of good taste,
The least sense of the five is that of smell,
An adjunct merely to ones sense of taste.
Bananas, say, you know best by their taste.
The skin’s not that distinctive to the touch,
But no-one ever could mistake the taste!
That subtly tangy creamy fruity taste!
Now stick one in your ear. What do you hear?
Be honest – there is nothing there to hear.
The whole point of bananas is their taste.
And look at them – there’s not a lot to see.
A yellow boomerang – that’s all you see.
Although perhaps there is more you can see.
On second thoughts, perhaps sight rivals taste.
From looking at its colour, you can see
Whether it’s ripe enough to eat, and see
If it is over-ripe and rank. Though smell
Can tell you that as well, that I can see.
The shape is something else that you can see.
You could of course detect the shape by touch,
But that’s an overrated sense, is touch.
My policy’s believing what I see –
A pretty common one, from what I hear.
Though I don’t credit everything I hear.
You’re bats if you choose fruit by what you hear.
There’s no excuse for that that I can see.
But with a radio you need to hear.
That is the whole point after all, to hear.
With radios there is no role for taste;
It’s all about the programmes you can hear.
It’s true that maybe now and then you’ll hear
A programme on bananas and their smell;
Technology can’t help you smell the smell;
The smell must be evoked by what you hear.
There’s one potentially confusing touch
Called scratch-’n’-sniff – smell comes from what you touch!
Which proves, perhaps, the primacy of touch,
Though here it’s just augmenting what you hear.
In silent moments you can still use touch.
Bananas have some lovely bits to touch –
There’s more that you can feel than you can see.
The curve; which end is which; all told by touch.
To peel one you must use your sense of touch.
You have to peel the thing before you taste…
But there’s more to it than what you can taste.
If wiggled slightly, with a gentle touch,
It will trisect – releasing waves of smell.
The fifth sense, and the least, the sense of smell.
Still, few things are evocative as smell.
Though mankiness you can detect by touch,
It’s better for that to rely on smell.
You needn’t wash your hands if you just smell.
You ought to smell bananas first, d’you hear?
If they are good it’s quite a different smell,
A really very pleasant sort of smell,
And that’s why you should smell your fruit, you see.
It sometimes tells you things that you can’t see.
Bananas with the true banana smell
Are fruit that it is safe for you to taste.
That’s what it’s all about, of course – the taste.
Sometimes a poem leaves an aftertaste,
Some slight suspicion of a musty smell,
The nagging fear the poet’s lost his touch,
Acquired a wooden ear with with which to hear…
Such faults the bard himself can never see.
“Mankiness” may be a Britishism. “Manky” means “rotten, bad, nasty”. It comes from either Scots, or English dialect, or Polari (homosexual slang), depending on which dictionary you believe.
Anyway, as you see, there are five stanzas of twelve lines each, followed by a five-line envoi (which I am tempted to call a tornada, as for the sestina). The pattern of the keywords goes like this:
    stanza 1: ABAACAADDAEE
    stanza 2: EAEEBEECCEDD
    stanza 3: DEDDADDBBDCC
    stanza 4: CDCCECCAACBB
    stanza 5: BCBBDBBEEBAA
    envoi:      ABCDE
No particular line length or metre is prescribed.
Variations
Other structures are possible, apparently, but I have never seen any of them. The one used here is supposed to be the most common (in so far as any kind of canzone could be described as common).
Prescription
Anyone addicted to writing sestinas should be encouraged to write canzones instead, as a kind of aversion therapy. The canzone goes on too long to be enjoyable for either writer or reader, in my opinion.
A big thanks to Bob Newman for the fine Volecentral resource.
 
My example
 
Impatient Pleas     (Cazone)
 
Come lie with me you pretty, pretty thing,
and let us stop our toying with our words. 
Your flirting with me started off this thing 
and now my mind’s rejecting any thing 
but ideas of you- no other thoughts 
seem even to amount to anything 
because to lie with you’s the only thing 
that promises to make my soul my own. 
My mind minds not directions of my own 
for I most work and tell it that the thing 
I want with you can’t be the first and last 
thoughts each hour should I want my job to last. 
 
You’re such a curvy and becoming thing; 
you beauty leaves me lacking proper words. 
You are a woman for man’s betrothing 
for character shines through without sleuthing. 
although a lesser man may hold out thoughts 
that you would be the optimum plaything, 
once stripped of outer and underclothing. 
It is my plan to take you as my own 
while cognizant you’re not a thing to own. 
Instruct what I must do- I’ll do that thing. 
You’re smitten now, and I want that to last 
I’m not your first but wish to be your last. 
 
How can such ardor ever hope to last- 
It seems almost a supernatural thing? 
When we first kissed I thought “Oh,God! at last” 
I’ve lived, so now fulfilled, can breathe my last. 
Let Lethe leave behind those unsaid words 
for now I wish this mortal life to last 
for even should I find my soul will last 
I want to cherish you in more than thoughts. 
You must be bundled up with loving thoughts 
accumulated and well built to last 
so when the physical’s not ours to own 
your memories will conjoin with my own. 
 
This is the year that we should make our own 
I’ll build a future we’re assured will last. 
I’ll give you confidence that you will own 
all pieces of that heart I called my own. 
And parsing out my heart’s no little thing 
because it’s always only been my own 
and you may have it- while it’s still my own. 
You’ll not have to rely upon my words 
for acttions will be louder than mere words 
and bringing joy to you provides my own. 
So frequently I find you in my thoughts 
and frequently they’re very sexy thoughts. 
 
When we’re apart you’re with me in my thoughts 
and nature makes all scenery my own. 
The whispers leaves exchange are surely thoughts 
about your luscious form and babbling thoughts 
voiced by the chuckling stream recalls the last 
time it lapped where my illicit thoughts 
will wander although more productive thoughts 
would fit the scheme.  There’s no more sensual thing 
than promised passion- not a single thing 
comes close.  the anticipatory thoughts 
may eclipse the act and mock any words 
which may be writ, for they are only words. 
 
Just know that when you penned the pretty words 
of a sweet kingdom stirred, that my own thoughts 
already were in tune with just those words; 
there’ll be no pining there in other words 
for my impatience equal to your own 
confronts and overcomes delays, and words 
are not required to hasten me, though words 
from you are like a siren first and last 
that cannot be ignored.  I know you’ll last 
as long as I; I’m burning beyond words 
so hesitation will not be a thing 
permitted as you are my everything. 
 
Be anxious for that “touch of soft skin” thing. 
Do not expect a waste of time with words. 
A sensual script will emanate from thoughts 
when my urgency meets your very own 
Each time, I’ll feel like saying, “here at last”.
  

 

Visual Template
 
 

Quartina

Quartina
Type:
Structure, End Word Requirement
Description:
The four-line stanza version of the sestina with the typical end-word enfolding.
Attributed to:
Bob Newman
Origin:
England
Schematic:
1234
4123
3412
2341
Envoy:
12 / 34
Rhythm/Stanza Length:
4
Line/Poem Length:
18
   
 
_____________________
 
Quartina
Another variation for which I accept full responsibility is the quartina.  This uses the same idea as the sestina but only has 4 keywords, hence is only 18 lines long. Here’s one:
Eclipse
 
This is the day when we shall see the moon
Dispute the morning sky; usurp the sun;
Beshroud the world in unaccustomed dark.
We know this – and we know it won’t last long.
This is the day; the wait will not be long
Until we’re on the dark side of the moon.
Unseen by us, our life-giver, the sun,
Will impotently rage against the dark.
The birds, lulled into silence by the dark,
Will tuck heads under wings – but not for long.
Two minutes only, this night of the moon,
Before the sky is reclaimed by the sun.
Though there is nothing new under the sun,
All seems new at the dying of the dark.
A second full dawn chorus, loud and long
Will celebrate the passing of the moon.
Don’t worry when the moon obscures the sun.
Although the day be dark, it won’t be long.
 
I chose the name “quartina” so that I could write flawed ones.
© Bob Newman 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007. All rights reserved
 
 
 
My thanks to Bob Newman for his wonderful resource site.
 

My Example Poem

Do You Suppose?     (Quartina)

 
A girl well knows what means a rose
when she can get one from a man.
Of course she might prefer a Porsche;
the goal then might be mistress role.
 
If rolling in the hay’s your role
I don’t suppose you need a rose.
If much elan defines your man
Of course one might expect a Porsche
 
It’s never coarse to own a Porsche
or take control of your own role,
but heaven knows a red, red rose
might show the game-plan of a man.
 
I really can picture a man
who owns a horse, but not a Porsche
with plenty soul for either role
who might propose with just one rose.
 
So take the rose and love the man
forget the Porsche and part-time role.
 
© Lawrencealot – January 8, 2013
 
 

 

Visual Template
This is a Quartina ( in iambic tetrameter with added internal rhyme)

 

 

Newman Sestina

The Newman sestina is a standard Sestina (See Here) with only the following added requirement:  Each of the six keywords Must Be an anagram of one another.
Newman sestina
This is a standard (unrhymed) sestina in which all the keywords are anagrams of one another. I was challenged to write such a thing by one of my son’s school friends. Just to prove it can be done: 
Rambling in Tresco
A Scilly sestina
Last Wednesday there were questions in the Cortes
From Miguel Martinez, MP and coster,
Concerning an endangered fowl, the scoter,
Much traded in the thriving private sector,
Delicious roasted in a bacon corset,
A dish so prized it merits an armed escort.
 

Martinez left for home in his Ford Escort.
Alas, he’ll speak no more before the Cortes,
For Semtex slyly planted in his corset
Was detonated by another coster
With interests in the wildfowl trading sector,
A specialist in ptarmigan and scoter.
 

What virtue, to lay down one’s life for scoter!
May choirs of angels strum their harps and escort
This hero straight to heaven’s swishest sector!
Meanwhile, his bill’s in trouble in the Cortes –
No sponsor since we lost our gallant coster;
Debating time’s as tight as any corset.
 

“The currency regime we call the corset
Is more important far than any scoter.”
So says the Chancellor. But wait! Our coster
Has friends who know some girls who sometimes escort
The Chancellor when he’s not in the Cortes,
Who work in, shall we say, the private sector
 

And also in the Chancellor’s privates sector,
And wear the most suggestive style of corset.
A scandal! And the Chancellor quits the Cortes
Thus leaving ample time to save the scoter.
Relief, my ducks, as into law they escort
The bill so ably drafted by the coster.
 

So honour be to Martinez the coster
Great benefactor of the wildfowl sector!
For thanks to him birds get an Air Force escort.
(It’s cheaper than the monetary corset).
His name shall be the toast of every scoter.
Right wondrous are the doings of the Cortes!

Now like stout Cortes in the Darien sector,
I marvel at the coster and the corset,
And at the scoter flying with their escort.
Manifold magazine held a competition for poems in this ridiculous form, which the editor named the Newman sestina in my honour.
 
© Bob Newman 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007. All rights reserved
My thanks always to Bob Newman for his wonderful resource.

 
Visual Template
 
 
 

Intramirroral

This is a form invented by Mark Andrew J Terry of Allpoetry.

These are the requirements of this form:
Rhyme Pattern: aabb 
Meter: None specified.
Isosyllabic – Each line must have the same number of syllables.
Minimum poem length: 4 lines, no maximum.

Couplet One:
Every word in the first line should rhyme with the corresponding word in line 2
Except for one word; those words must have contrary meanings, but same syllable count.

It can be expanded as far as you wish.
These are the requirements for a Sestet:
Rhyme Pattern: aabbcc

Meter: Optional.
Couplet One::
Every word in the first line should rhyme with the corresponding word in line 2
Except for one word; those words must have contrary meanings, but same syllable count

Following couplets:
Ends with mirrored rhyme, but also has internal rhyme

Example Poem

Party Time

Alluring tart proffering wile.
Demurring lass deferring guile.

Bewitching twit assures relief.
Enriching wit insures belief.

No way to stay the party game.
I’ll try to buy the hearty dame.

© Lawrencealot – May 27, 2012

Visual Template
Intermirroral

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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