Sunday, 16 May 2021

Five Stunning Villanelle Poems by Terry Wheeler




old forms

 

in old forms wisdom creaks

beauty’s smithy works each word

until a tender timelessness speaks 

 

through shelley raw youth seeks

revolutionary fire seldom heard

in old forms wisdom creaks

 

rimbaud in wilderness for weeks

thoughts pounding vision blurred

until a tender timelessness speaks

 

gerard from morning prayer peeks 

at the godhead of spring’s bird

in old forms wisdom creaks 

 

dylan thomas endlessly tweaks

forcing meaning from the absurd

until a tender timelessness speaks 

 

grappling with myriad techniques 

where this alchemy is spurred

in old forms wisdom creaks 

until a tender timelessness speaks


 

 

 

chifley


did she grin

the trappings shed

staring at ben

 

he told them

pick forde instead

did she grin

 

they needed him

jim scullin said

staring at ben

 

when housewives ring

butcher orders read

did she grin

 

her eyes swim

and are fed

staring at ben

 

big boofy chin

across kurrajong bed

did she grin

staring at ben



 

 

too soon

 

is it too soon

to conjure words for

this melancholy tune

 

these notes lie strewn 

blue to their core

is it too soon

 

construed neath the moon

obeying its lunar law

this melancholy tune

 

in every spectral dune

the maternal spirits soar

is it too soon

 

would bobby dylan croon

in some croaky roar

this melancholy tune 

 

as this page is hewn

pieces falling to the floor 

is it too soon

this melancholy tune


 

 

 

dingle peninsula 

 

a greensward beauty shakes the day

making green fools of touring folk

as into mist rainbows fray

 

hide and seek the sun does play

with showers which seldom soak

a greensward beauty shakes the day

 

up the west wind’s way lay

hillside sheep that blindly poke

as into mists rainbows fray

 

from twining lanes an atlantic spray

hits low notes with a pulsing croak

a greensward beauty shakes the day 

 

ghostly cowls kneel to pray 

inside beehives black clouds cloak

as into mist rainbows fray 

 

all the senses these vistas waylay

are overwhelmed and choke

a greensward beauty shakes the day 

as into mist rainbows fray


 

 

 

laphroaig 

 

the ocean turns the other cheek

and through the angels’ share

the whisky barrels speak

 

as barley churned seeks its peak

sprouting in heavy salty air

the ocean turns the other cheek

 

of dark smoky peat

wafting pagoda towers square

the whisky barrels speak 

 

when copper pot stills creak

filling with wash then spirit fair

the ocean turns the other cheek 

 

from decades spent in retreat

inside warehouses battered there

the whisky barrels speak 

 

with a wild bushfire reek

to reward a palate rare

the ocean turns the other cheek 

the whisky barrels speak




 




After graduating from law school in the late 1980s Terry Wheeler worked in the Australian public service for decades. He was inspired to write after seeing Michael Dransfield poems in The Australian newspaper when a teenager. Terry has been published in Australia and abroad since retiring. He lives in Brisbane when not travelling.

 

 

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