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Recently I've been reading a lot of early villanelles and the history surrounding the form as it grew out of musical dances.
Last week was the 24th anniversary of my father's passing, so I thought it apt to try and create a dance of words in his honour.

Villanelle for a lost father

Imageby Robert Harper10 Jul 2013

His love I lost upon this day
Two dozen years ago my friend.
A breath no more, he cannot stay.

Three quarter century of play,
But life relieved him in the end.
His love I lost upon this day.

In those last hours, not much to say
Except a plea, though voice did lend
A breath no more. He cannot stay.

It matters not, perhaps it may,
Though I might try, my life to mend,
His love I lost upon this day.

His eyes, once blue, at last were grey.
Their spark could not his heart defend
A breath. No more, he cannot stay.

Upon no god, though I did pray
For his repair, could I depend.
His love I lost upon this day,
A breath no more, he cannot stay.