Words, like ebon tiles jumbled in a game,
Broach Life’s loves, fated wars, edgy affairs.
Poetic portraits in echoic frames.

Oversoon notions tossed into the flame,
Sketchy, shapeless, precociously bare.
Words, like ebon tiles jumbled in a game.

Ancient scribes penned psalms, songs for history fames,
Exemplar recitations trumpets blare.
Poetic portraits in echoic frames.

Burgeoning bards with contemplative aim
Scribble rash embryonic artful wares.
Words, like ebon tiles jumbled in a game.

Abstruse expressions of a soul, marred, maimed,
Scrawled in ink, agony, evoking tears.
Poetic portraits in echoic frames.

Life’e circadian rhythms fan the flames
Of balladry verse.  Passion’s novel pared.
Thus, words, like ebon tiles jumbled in a game,
Poetic portraits in echoic frames.

Source of Inspiration:  A friend of mine coined me The Voice of the Villanelle, and then taught me how to create a blog by the same name.  I’ve been asked many times why I write Villanelles and the answer is……..for the challenge.  My favorite game is Scrabble and writing a Villanelle is much like playing Scrabble.  The rhythm of life is merely mocked by the rhythm of poetry.  And that is why we write………poetry.