A villanelle for Mother’s Day
Should take me just about an hour:
Writing it is child’s play.
Because I know just what to say,
And rhyming’s quite within my power,
To write it should be child’s play.
Yet plain speech is not my way:
I look for leaves to shade my flower,
This villanelle for Mother’s Day.
I do not wish to sound too fey,
Obscure, mystic, gushy, sour–
Arggh! Writing’s never child’s play!
Yes, childish! To my dismay,
Far beyond the allotted hour,
This villanelle for Mother’s Day
Dawdles on. Let me just say
It plain: I love you, and so end our
Villanelle for Mother’s Day.
(Well … writing it was child’s play.)