Rhyme, Ridiculous

Just Kidding

I had claimed defeat a few moments too early, I suppose. I scrambled and put something on paper in time to turn in a less than excellent piece. I feel like I’ve been saying this the past few weeks, but you can’t win ’em all, right? Anyways, I share it here with you all out of some bizarre obligation. Honestly, I would otherwise be reluctant to post this one. It’s a Villanelle, if that means anything to you.

April Birthdays

I found an old photograph from Aprils past,
Of young girls in plaid skirts on broken swings.
Blow candles. Wish for memory to last.

My dark curls and light complexion contrast
The sweet harmonies that jump ropes sing.
I found an old photograph from Aprils past,

Of you and I, wide-eyed before the mast,
Before scary waves rushing waters bring.
Blow candles. Wish for memory to last.

While ocean winds predict weather’s forecast,
Young girls pretend to fly with fairy wings.
I found an old photograph from Aprils past.

Because some old friends move too far too fast,
Other faces never return to spring,
Blow candles. Wish for memory to last.

I miss our sweet days and sun overcast.
And young girls become old, reluctant to sing.
I found an old photograph from Aprils past.
Blow candles. Wish for memory to last.

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