Sweet Villanelle

It's been a few days since the last journal entry. Have I been slack? No, just distracted. I had to leap to the defence of falsely accused packbawkies. (Well, to tell the truth, I've been enjoying sparring with that bad rat Socar.)

The other challenge that has been ticking along in the background is the construction of a humorous villanelle. The villanelle is a form of poetry that seems to appeal to the obsessive compulsive poet. Its repetition of the first and third lines and "can't have too much of a good thing" rhyming scheme make it a worthy challenge for a warped mind.

Sweet Villanelle

My love, I feel I must make clear
that time I spend in dreams of you
flies like the time when you are near.
 
Each time we dine you lend an ear-
you listen when I have some view,
my love, I feel I must make clear.
 
In search of sweetness I'm sincere,
and no pastime I can construe
flies like the time when you are near.
 
Our parfait hours can disappear
in blissful moments, each one new.
My love, I feel I must make clear
 
how I adore your peaceful cheer,
but not a cream pie thrown, it's true,
flies like the time when you are near.
 
You fill my mind with mousse, my dear.
You're sundae to my sweet-tooth too.
My love, I feel I must make clear:
Flies like the time when you are near.