Here we have a Triolet of French origin. It’s
an eight line poem with repetition, so the poet only writes five lines with the
other lines repeated and rhymed.
The poet repeats the first line of verse on
the fourth and seventh line. Then the second line is repeated at the end. The rhyme
follows the end words of the first two lines.
The paved green path
politicians make,
Has nothing to do
with our fate,
Except the denial for
a piece of their cake!
The paved green path
politicians make,
From noisy promises
turned inner ache,
And one to the next,
we take their bait.
The paved green path
politicians make,
Has nothing to do
with our fate!
I wrote this today, but you get the picture.
Try
and Triolet,
Bea
