Every line has reason for being —

turn in, turn out, skip rhyme or season,

be heart’s guide to new ways of seeing.

Every line has rhyme and reason.


The beat of the heart makes tunes pleasing.

Close your eyes, forgo the fleeing.

What matters is this form of treason.


For quick as line and beat turns fleeting,

Just glimpse his hand and whose knee it’s on —

The grief beats on in wail and keening.

Every line has rhyme and reason.


NOTES: Holy Roundel Prompt, Poemman. My own prompt and I completely can’t figure it out. As well, I think with forms I end up having to do a at least two or three to get the hang of the form before I end up with a poem that I like. Sadly, no time to do that today, but it was fun to work in form again, either way.