Rondeau 4

In braver days, the land was free.
An honest difference would not be
A reason for me to despise
Distrust and doubt, defame with lies.
There was another view to see.

This land was safe for men like me.
It was no crime to disagree.
And noble souls could compromise.
In braver days.

No cowering on bended knee.
No public servant apathy.
No hungry wolves in sheep disguise.
No hesitance to realize
The weak owe no apology.
In braver days.

Rondeau 3

All summer long I hear the creek.
Bubbling, burbling, I hear it speak,
And with it crickets in the weed.
So very little do I need
When I embrace the earth's mystique.

I hike across  the world's physique,
Sweating and panting as I seek
The confirmations of my creed.
All summer long.

Oh how my passions reach their peak,
A soothing balm for when I'm weak.
Beneath the sun my soul shall feed.
There is a calling I shall heed
All summer long.

Rondeau 2

I wage a war I cannot show.
A war the world must never know.
The struggle is my private hell.
Combatants names I will not tell,
Nor will I tell where I must go.

No casualties. No blood will flow.
No commendations to bestow.
Yet if I win all will be well.
I wage a war.

An explanation I may owe.
Contemporaries tell me so.
Yet though their admonitions swell,
To say would sound my own death knell.
Suffice to say, it's going slow.
I wage a war.