Styles of Poetry - Part 2

I thought I'd share some more styles of poetry with you today.

KYRIELLE


A Kyrielle is a French form of rythming poetry. It is written in quatrains (a quatrain is a stanza with 4 lines).

Each quatrain contains a repeating line or phrase known as a "refrain."
Each line is 8 syllables.
There are no limits to the quatrains, but the minium is 3.
Rythme pattern is up to the poet.


I Saw Death Today

I saw death today, bold yet dark.
His features were black, icy, stark.
He wore an obsidian cloak.
His blade would cut in a swift stroke.

Death slithered around shadowed tree,
He looked sharp gray on bended knee.
The prey was not far from his coat.
His blade would cut in a swift stroke.

Laughing and giggling were they.
Destiny's time was up today.
The sundial struck it's feared note.
His blade would cut in a swift stroke.

*****

ETHEREE

There are 10 lines in an etheree. As you go up in lines, you go up in syllables. For example:

Line 1 - 1 syllable
Line 2 - 2 syllable
and so on.

Line 10 will have 10 syllables.

You can also reverse the ethree starting with 10 syllables and going down to 1. A double etheree has 2 verses with an inverted syllable count starting after line 10.

Nocturnal Hunter

Dark,
he walks
among black
fields and shadows,
creeping, stalking prey.
Obsidian eye cool,
mercurial to the touch.
Fear all around; heart pumping loud.
Prey jumps, bolts toward hoped freedom close.
Dark pounces, hands cold, firm, kill without mercy.

*****


QUATERN

This is a French form of poetry similiar to the Kyrielle.

There are 16 lines, 4 quatrains.
A refrain is in a different line each quatrain. In the 1st quatrian it is in line 1, in the 2nd quatrain, it is in line 2. in the 3rd quatrain, it is in line 3, in the 4th quatrain, it is in line 4.
There are 8 syllables per line.
It does not follow a set rythme scheme.

Shattered by the light of the Moon

Shattered by the light of the moon,
I dropped to the forest ground.
His words were icy and bitter.
Heartbreak's cold arrow would not come out.

I shivered, stung, pricked by ice,
shattered by the light of the moon.
Once done, my nocturnal lover
walked away, no compassion

splayed upon his face, no cold grace.
My brittle bones ached, my skin quaked,
shattered by the light of the moon.
Rejection, so cooly done rent.

Dark hours past, sunrise's twilight peeks
out over an obsidian cloud.
My doomed heart, beating still, was
shattered by the light of the moon.