A poem old has verses wrapped in gold
As rhythmic beauty pours from every line;
A magic gift with music to behold.

Sophisticated language ripe and bold
Applied with master crafted strokes sublime;
A poem old has verses wrapped in gold.

A reservoir of riches there we mold
Inside a tapestry spread over time;
A magic gift with music to behold.

As summer heat turns into winter cold,
These songbird troubadours sing out their rhyme;
A poem old has verses wrapped in gold.

Perfection flows from words these poets told
In metronomic splendor like a chime;
A magic gift with music to behold.

The modern poet cannot lift their load
While writing pablum far removed from prime;
A poem old has verses wrapped in gold,
A magic gift with music to behold.

Very nicely done, Tom. A good read throughout.

Les

These songbird troubadours sing out their rhyme;


They sure did....and you offer a nice tribute with this villanelle. Good read, Tom.

Mary