Sculpting a Villanelle

A Poem by Hannah Estar

The title describes it :)

A villanelle is fashioned carefully
Not of bronze, nor iron, even gold,
A poem molded with great dignity

And brought to its set shape quite deftly
In stanzas gleaming precise and controlled
Beaten not in lead but smooth poetry

Not the poetry of birds wild and free
Birds, which sing random mysterious bold
But a methodic sterling silver tree

Which branches in repetitious degree
First ‘A,’ ‘B,’ then ‘A,’ then once more ‘A,’ ‘B’
Thus til the quatrain falls confusingly

And shatters the hammered rhythm of three
Imperfect yet beauteous to behold
And to be read aloud to me or thee

In polished perfection of four and three
And thus a poem like this one is told.
A villanelle is fashioned carefully
A poem molded with great dignity.