A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short - a refrain (R) consisting of a phrase taken from line one. The other lines are longer (but all of the same metrical length).

Example #1:

Springtime Air

Come follow me, I'll lead you where
The days are fine and nights are fair;
Where fields of clover, lush and green,
Will visit you within this scene --
       As March inhales the springtime air.

So come with me and we shall share
The freshness springtime can ensnare,
As fields of flowers thus convene.--
     Come follow me...

Springtime's approach to which we're heir
Will bring about winter's repair,
Where we shall witness sights serene
And glory in that to be seen.
No other season can compare.
     Come follow me...

Copyright © 2004 Dan Tharp

Example #2:

As I Was Warmed

As I was warmed by golden sun
And felt its peace when it was done,
A patch of clover, barely seen,
Reflected sun in jaunty green
As Winter fell and Spring had won.

I watched the children laugh and run.
I felt my spirit join their fun,
The lifting of a Winter screen
As I was warmed.

Time called for rain, but there was none.
A brand new season had begun
And March had painted pastel scene
As Jack Frost tried, once more, to glean
A final chill, but found not one
As I was warmed.

Copyright © 2004 Pam H. Murray

Example #3:

Winds of Chickamauga

Winds of Chickamauga do firmly blow
Through green clover’d fields where fireflies glow.
A March sunset inks the distant, gray sky,
Mapping the path of night; the end draws nigh
Down where the mighty Tennessee does flow.

Stars brightly gaze upon the Earth below,
Winking at the waves rocking to and fro.
Where light dares not reach, weeping willows cry
Winds of Chickamauga.

A bleak sign of daybreak begins to show
Just beyond the clouds hanging soft and low.
The early birds grasp the breezes on high;
Up into the morn, their silhouettes fly
Over white sailing ships cruising the slow
Winds of Chickamauga.

Copyright © 2004 Marie Summers