Another silkie (well, one glimpsed a couple of weeks ago) and another villanelle. Silkies don’t usually fare well upon the land and this one is, I’m afraid, no exception.
The false friend
I took his skin and put it on,
I’d longtimes thought it would fit me.
So tempting, when I found him gone,To dig up friendship. Whereupon
I found it buried ’neath a tree.
I took his skin and put it on,Left him a man the land upon
And swam a silkie in the sea –
So tempting when I found him gone.And, sure, I grant I did him wrong,
Though he erred first in trusting me.
I took his skin and put it on,Gave him my half life, pale and wan,
And claimed his double life for me.
So tempting, when I found him gone.Regrets, like friendships, are bygone
Forsook for wonders ’neath the sea.
I took his skin and put it on;
So tempting when I found him gone.
Folksong and Fantasy 
I’m a bit obsessed with selkies, and this was a wonderful poem–but it may have been eclipsed by the poetic duel of pangolin paragons and the mandolin-playing armadillos! 🙂
Thank you. It’s funny where the rhymes take you, well, rhymes and a bit of whimsy.
Yes, indeed. 🙂
Sad indeed. I like how you manage to use run-on lines and still keep the rhythm.
Cheers. It’s a bit of a juggling act, rhyme, rhythm, meaning. I was hard-pressed for ‘on’ rhymes. Sorely tempted by ‘paragon’ and ‘phenomenon’ but who knows where they’d have taken me.
Paragon is a good word. I always imagine it looks like a pangolin.
It would take you into exotic waters.
A pangolin – a paragon –
The violin he played upon.
From wide and far the world did come
To hear such a phenomenon.
No mandolin this pangolin
doth pluck; he strums
his dear well-travelled violin
with opposing thumbs.
Any well-taught pangolin
Doth bow upon the violin.
I fear you have been taken in
By armadillos
whose peccadillos
Cause them to strum a mandolin.
I’ll have you know
the armadillo
in it’s native land
of Patagonio
plays usually in a band.
Nine-banded armadillos
Will indulge their peccadillos.
They scorn to play the violin
And strum upon the mandolin.
But even in their native lands
To try to play within nine bands
Is more than they are able.
And so, each time they’re overbooked,
They hide beneath a table.
That was fun! I was called away to kitchen duties. This will be a hard act to follow…
Last one before lights out:
A pangolin’s life is its own
and they generally travel alone
but once in the Wirral
one was gnawed by a squirrel
mistaking it for a pine cone .
A young armadillo called Fred
Tired of mandolins and so instead
He picked up a fiddle
Played hey-diddle-diddle
While pangolins looked on with dread.
Fred boasted just listen to me
for pangolins talentless be
but they gave him a thrashing
for pangolin trashing
round the back when he went for a pee.