VILLANELLE............
Craig Tigerman, US

 

Same Old Story   

The heart, in reaching out, is often burned,
Hung out to dry, bare twisting in the breeze.
I'd say this heart of mine still hasn't learned.

Sometimes so close to that for which it yearned,
It could not see the forest for the trees;
The heart, in reaching out, is often burned.

It seeks all loving in-roads, stays concerned,
Ignores the mind's more sane and wise decrees;
I'd say this heart of mine still hasn't learned.

It's not the mutuality is spurned,
But more the situations with disease;
The heart, in reaching out, is often burned.

I've followed blind, shed tears as feelings churned,
And trod on eggshells while it sought to please;
I'd say this heart of mine still hasn't learned.

One never knows if love will be returned
Or if the pain will drop us to our knees.
The heart, in reaching out, is often burned.
I'd say this heart of mine still hasn't learned.

One Look    

One look into my eyes: this will explain
The burdens borne, the never-ending quest,
The love that has the power to end the pain.

There are no words to sum up all the strain.
I've tried to speak or write, but I'm hard-pressed;
One look into my eyes: this will explain.

If not for faith, I'd surely go insane;
I lift my heart and try to give my best,
The love that has the power to end the pain.

For all the storms that rage, each one shall wane
I'd rather love than put love to the test
One look into my eyes: this will explain.

And yet, when all is done, what shall remain?
One legacy, upon my final rest:
The love that has the power to end the pain.

The toil, therefore, is worth the children's gain;
Much more I'd work, if they might be more blest!
One look into my eyes: this will explain
The love that has the power to end the pain.

 

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