Here's rhyme without reason in the form of several dark villanelles on the topic of werewolves, from Lori R. Lopez, Tracie McBride and Pierre Mare.
With the Moon's Embrace
Lori R. Lopez
A wolfman by day has a wicked heart
Though gentle of face in his human restraint,
With the moon's embrace he will rip you apart.
His bite is sharper than the tooth, I impart;
No power of will would the blood-urge constraint,
A wolfman by day has a wicked heart.
Unclawed, his smile wields the stab of a dart
But these jaws transformed can make a stone faint,
In the moon's embrace will he rip you apart.
A stature that would make the stout of chest start,
His change not a pretty picture does paint,
Yet a wolfman by day has a wicked heart.
It may seem benign, his charms an art,
Behind his guise lurks the odor of taint
With the moon's embrace; he will rip you apart.
No beast as cunning, one cannot outsmart
The werewolf whose corruption is pure as a saint.
A wolfman by day has a wicked heart
And with the moon's embrace will rip you apart.
Claim the night
Tracie McBride
Feel the power of the light
Shining from a turgid moon
As lupine monsters claim the night
Your fate is sealed beneath its bite
Feverish yet, you will soon
Feel the power of the light
Breath comes in gasps, your skin is tight
And coming darkness makes you swoon
As lupine monsters claim the night
Bones stretch, fangs sprout in this dark rite
From your taint none are immune
Feel the power of the light
Howl at the sky in fierce delight
This newfound strength a baleful boon
As lupine monsters claim the night
Upon this consecrated site
The bodies of your kin are strewn
Feel the power of the light
As lupine monsters claim the night
Red Riding Hood
Pierre Mare
The Wolf
The moon is high, the moon is bright.
A maiden in a blood red hood.
My singing senses love the night.
Freed from the confines of daylight.
Four legs stand where two legs stood.
The moon is high, the moon is bright.
A snarled foretelling, frenzy, bright.
Birds flap and scatter as they should.
My singing senses love the night.
The chase is brief, her chances slight.
And my intent is understood.
The moon is high, the moon is bright.
Panting terror. Gorgeous fright.
The final moments of childhood.
My singing senses love the night.
A few last tears in bleached moonlight.
A ragged scream rips through the wood.
The moon is high, the moon is bright.
My singing senses love the night.
The Grandmother
Every day holds its own gift,
Even in this lonely place,
But as day ages night comes swift.
Red Riding Hood gives without thrift.
Cakes, honey, love, joy on her face.
Every day holds its own gift.
Don't wait. Don't let your purpose drift.
Red Riding Hood, pick up the pace.
As day ages night comes swift.
To all but goodness give short shrift
Knock at my door in light's last trace.
Every day holds its own gift.
Steps rustle through the leafy drift.
Bring comfort now. You've won the race.
As day ages night comes swift.
One final task, a latch to lift
And bid you welcome in this place.
Every day holds its own gift
But as day ages night comes swift
The Woodcutter
My axe can heal, my axe can mend
Blighted bark and twisted bole.
My love is for the woods I tend.
Blood marrs my wood, joy at an end.
This dreadful day takes fearsome toll.
My axe can heal, my axe can mend.
Last night two blooms found their cruel end,
Two forest roses, young and old.
My love is for the woods I tend.
I take no comfort from my friend.
His hungry smile tears at my soul.
My axe can heal, my axe can mend.
Blood between the teeth that rend.
A glint of red in eyes of coal.
My love is for the woods I tend.
My craft will bring this to an end.
He'll pay in kind, this twisted bole.
My axe can heal, my axe can mend.
My love is for the woods I tend.
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