She Sings Her Monsoon Song

jumble-of-clouds

 

It’s a pleasure when the frowning sun quits

Heaps of inky clouds frolic in the sky

Into the realm of verse she lunges and flits

 

With the rainy balm her tawny skin’s lit

I read her verdant lines in jasmine rhyme

It’s a pleasure when the frowning sun quits

 

Her voice jingles ditty in busy bee feet

That peacock dance meter spellbinds the eye

Into the realm of verse she lunges and flits

 

With an eddy of breeze love odes she knits

Her passions in streams brim over and lie

It’s a pleasure when the frowning sun quits

 

The rumbling clouds, the lightening in a fit

Delights her for her words will no more be dry

Into the realm of verse she lunges and flits

 

Her cantos will flow on in litchis sweet

Rhythms will pitter patter on leaves high

It’s a pleasure when the frowning sun quits

Into the realms of verse she lunges and flits

 

Posted for dVerse MTB — How to Write a Villanelle hosted by Frank Hubeny

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