Villanelle – The Escape

The second poem I wrote after Mother is called a Villanelle. When I saw the subject for the poetry challenge I had to look it up as I had no idea what the word meant. It turns out that it’s a poem with a very technical and specific structure and rhyme scheme, the most famous example of which is probably Dylan Thomas’s ‘Do not go gentle in to that good night’ . Luckily I had written a short piece of 150 word prose on ‘Tree’ which someone had suggested would translate into poetry, so there was my starting point. It took a lot of plotting of the verses, rhymes and syllables to get the right rhythm but I was quite pleased with the result. First, the prose piece…

The weeping willows encircled the dam, creating a humid green refuge from the city. The dragon flies zig zagged across the water in staccato movements, and the sound of entrapped insects hummed inside her sanctuary’s canopy. The surface of the static water was slimy with algae and the shy water lilies were beginning to open their buds. When the wispy fronds of the willows wafted and parted in the shallow breeze, the sun glanced through and an iridescent sheen glanced off the body of water.

She lay on the damp grass, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, her arms under her head. She stared straight up to where the trees opened to the blue sky and watched the contrails of a jet passing high overhead. For now, her escape was right here. One day, such a plane would take her far away from the suffocation of this small life.

And now the Villanelle…called The Escape

For now, her escape is here by the lake.
She stares up at the contrails in the sky
A plane will fly her far from her mistake

A green canopy of weeping willows make
A humid refuge from the hue and cry,
For now, her escape is here by the lake.

Dragon flies dip and dive their thirst to slake
And with shy lilies for attention vie
A plane will fly her far from her mistake.

Static water made by algae opaque
Willow fronds in the breezes waft and sigh
For now, her escape is here by the lake.

The glancing sun’s rays through the branches break
An iridescence on the water lies
A plane will fly her far from her mistake.

Entrapped insects hum low as they awake
Like them she feels entrapped, releases a sigh
A plane will fly her far from her mistake
But for now, her escape is here by the lake.

Author: Deryn

Born and bred in Manchester UK with a degree in French from the University of Exeter, I found myself in Johannesburg, South Africa in 1995 via Spain, France and Greece. And London. I have worked in the hospitality industry in marketing, as a radio and tv producer, in PR and communications for South Africa's buy local advocacy campaign and since June 2022 have been running my own content creation and PR company, Use Lorem Ipsum. I have always been a reader and writer of stories and am relieved finally to have achieved the publication of this blog. Now for that novel. I am the mother of 2 sons, middle of 3 sisters, owner of a dog and the ex wife and ex girlfriend of a number of men who clearly didn't deserve me. I am an eternal optimist for myself, my country and the planet, so don't let me down, world.