Poetry Archives

I took her dainty eyes, as well
   As silken tendrils of her hair:
And so I made a Villanelle!

I took her voice, a silver bell,
   As clear as song, as soft as prayer;
I took her dainty eyes as well.

It may be, said I, who can tell,
   These things shall be my less despair?
And so I made a Villanelle!

I took her whiteness virginal
   And from her cheek two roses rare:
I took her dainty eyes as well.

I said: “It may be possible
   Her image from my heart to tear!”
And so I made a Villanelle.

I stole her laugh, most musical:
   I wrought it in with artful care;
I took her dainty eyes as well;
And so I made a Villanelle.