Love is just a thing to shred and rend our hearts,
So Dusty Springfield asserted from her knees
(But, to grow a tree, you don’t start with tree parts.
The flow of passion deepens in fits and starts,
And does not walk the tidy path of our pleas.
Love is just a thing to shred and rend our hearts,
Till-death-do-we-part tortures spinsters and tarts
The rice a mirage, the wedding march a tease.
(But, to grow a tree, you don’t start with tree parts.)
It ignores the primacy of graphs and charts,
Choosing its own time and own moments to seize;
Love is just a thing to shred and rend our hearts,
Love at first sight upsets all our apple carts,
Yet we rush headlong to pick it from the trees.
(But, to grow a tree, you don’t start with tree parts.)
One more torch song, then, to rocket up the charts.
One more tear-stained chanteuse to sing the reprise;
Love is just a thing to shred and rend our hearts,
(But, to grow a tree, you don’t start with tree parts.)
W.k. kortas--mediocre means "better than some". 
I had to refresh my memory on exactly what a villanelle is to truly enjoy your poem.
(and I had to look up the meaning of chanteuse…)
😉
You don’t have to say you like it, I will understand…
Hi,
As an old teacher of many years–to the brilliant and the dull–I am in the habit of speaking my mind, not flattering for effect.
My students seem to appreciate the candor over the years. I know that I do.
So, no, I don’t feel the need to cheer lead; my problem (at this point in my life) is the time to really think and read.
I was just making the gratuitous Dusty Springfield reference 🙂
regarding your comment on my blog…
“One thing that I find very difficult to do with a villanelle is to keep the blood pumping; the restrictions of the form tend to make them more academic than lively. You have avoided that pitfall very nicely here; this piece has real emotional strength.”
i agree with you – restricted by the form, it can be difficult to keep the blood pumping. when i have wriiten my villanelle, i was furious – and the form made me calm down – the words wanted to spill out – but they had to fit the form. in this case, the form served me well..can be both ways..
I can’t get the hang of a villanelle, but you smite it ~