Kyrielle ~ Tartiflette

English: Reblochon is a French cow’s-milk labelled Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) cheese, made in the Alps region of Haute-Savoie and Savoie.

He can get but one Reblochon,
(I’d better not go on and on),
We really need two. But you know
How it is, I must adapt so …

An extra recipe, I read,
So our guests won’t be underfed (!)
He can get but one Reblochon
And we really need at least two.

He can get but one Reblochon
And we really need at least two
A hasty casserole will fill
Up the hole. Inspiration, phew!

An evening of expectation,
Thank goodness for inspiration.
He could get but one Reblochon
And we really need at least two.

Casserole (Photo credit: el_floz)

Tartiflette, a french dish with a cheese named Reblochon. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

According to Catherine Wilson, writing in 2003, ‘The Kyrielle was once a very popular poetic form originating in France and dating back to the Middle Ages. In this poetry form, couplets are often paired in quatrains and are characterised by a refrain that is sometimes a single word and sometimes the full second line of the couplet or the full fourth line of the quatrain. Each line within the poem consists of only eight syllables. There is no limit to the number of stanzas a Kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum.The name kyrielle derives from the Kýrie. Gay Reiser Cannon at dVerse poets agrees with this description and sums it up in this way:

‘So to sum up:

1. the form can be written a number of ways usually as a quatrain.
2. the form ends in a refrain which is repeated as the last line or after every stanza.
3. the lines should be written in tetrameter (in iambs or trochees) or a count of eight syllables.
4. the original form addressed spiritual topics but that usage has somewhat disappeared.’ (dVerse FormForAll, December, 2012)

He Sits and Waits

I went with Lucy to the Poetry Workshop with Sally J. Blackmore it was great fun and we met some ace poets.  Sally wrote to say that this form, the Kyrielle [full description at base of post], was being worked on by some poets from last week’s Workshop.  So I tried my hand at it. It brought to mind an elderly gentleman in a nursing home, he had a form of dementia, and I couldn’t help but wonder what that must be like. He looked like a small child, a small bewildered child, that same aura of innocence, naiveté.  Almost inevitably, following the workshop, it became clear that a little more work was needed, so this is attempt number two at a Kyrielle.

He sits and waits, he is hungry.
He ponders what he was thinking,
For a moment, a rare inkling.
Do all things end as they begin?

The hanky from the laundry room,
His daughter, bound to be here soon.
His eyes tear up and he reaches,
Do all things end as they begin?

He ponders what he was thinking,
Just one moment ago, sinking …
I am hungry, he thinks, then smiles.
Do some things finish up in style?

He waits, he sits, he is hungry,
Food appears, it’s here, it’s too soon,
It’s before him, from where, from whom?
Do all things end as they begin?

He blinks, looks for a fork, a spoon.
He peers beneath the platter, croons,
He sees it, a new full blue moon.
Do all things end as they begin?

But arm does not go where he wants,
And hand will not go where he wants,
When he tells it to grip the spoon.
Do things end? Yes, they’ve left the room.

He is hungry, sits with repast,
‘Lord have mercy, I could eat fast,
If only I could grip and grasp.’
Do all things end as they begin?

It smells here, he sniffs and snivels.
‘Help Lord have mercy,’ he dribbles.
Anytime now – surely – to eat.
Do all things end as they begin?

Wet blue glance just reaches once more,
The white handkerchief laundered for,
Who was it? A girl. Girl no more.
All things end, which must be the score.

The spoon is it where it ought’er?
Something about food, his daughter.
The spoon could be up on the moon.
Do all things end as they begin?

Blue eyes misting up with dismay
See the world dimly, far away.
The spoon or the moon or my girl?
Do all things end as they begin?

He sits and waits, he is hungry.
He ponders what he was thinking
Just moments ago, an inkling.
Do all things end as they begin?

Polly Robinson © 2012

According to Catherine Wilson, writing in 2003, ‘The Kyrielle was once a very popular poetic form originating in France and dating back to the Middle Ages. The word Kyrielle is derived from a part of the church liturgy, the Kýrie eléison (Lord, have mercy).’  In this poetry form, couplets are often paired in quatrains and are characterised by a refrain that is sometimes a single word and sometimes the full second line of the couplet or the full fourth line of the quatrain.  Each line within the poem consists of only eight syllables.  There is no limit to the number of stanzas a Kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum.