This is from a CA round of a couple years ago.

AS I SIT HERE    

As I sit here, fingers snapping,
on the keys I’m gently tapping.
Words appear and lightly shimmer, 
often without any glimmer 
of a route I may be mapping.

On my Muse’s door I’m rapping, 
hoping that the thing’s not napping.
But the hope is getting slimmer 
as I sit here.

Adjectives and verbs I’m scrapping.
Broken-winged, my thoughts are flapping 
while my mood is getting grimmer 
trying to hold on to dimmer 
thoughts my tired Muse ain’t trapping 
as I sit here.

writer

Thank you for your response, Carly...   

I moved it actually into the forum, since you were questioning this particular form.  You'll see that it indeed is NOT a rondeau...

but you'll find help with it here:  Limerick

deLightin' in your flittin' about, and I hope you'll land somewhere!

Lightly, Daniel 

Christmas Past, Christmas Future
_{for Christmas Present}

I see why you like this the best;
in every way it's passed the test.
Internal rhymes are full and free
as all good poems ought to be...
and there's a fresh, expectant zest

allowing us to chew, digest
each line, with nothing to arrest
our pleasure; there is no debris
I see.

The author's craft is manifest
as other readers will attest.
Next Christmas you could be emcee...
record this for my DVD...
What's 'neath my tree among the rest
I see?!

- djr 11 May 2007

No one's asked me to be their EDITOR, Diane... not to worry.  Crit is free here.

deLighting to share, Daniel  8)

Well, my friend...

I think your idea was worth more that 15 minutes...

so I gave it the last hour and a half... plus the last 5 years of learning.

always willing to edit... for a price, Daniel  8)

Normpo wrote on Mar 18^th, 2007 at 5:27am:

editing Lightly, Daniel  8)

^{In accord with your note, Norm, I post this rondeaumentary on your poem:}

Your Hereafter's written; the poem's been read...

perhaps you could start out with that line instead?
yet you are the author, and your audience
but reads you or hears you; we'd give no offense.
When all's said and done, your first line could be dead.

Repeating its opening part paints it red
and gains it attention... stands us on our heads;
the rentrement reaches out... gives it the sense
you're here after.

Critique and revision could put this to bed
a little more smoothly, methinks; so instead
of posting it here (if you want my two cents)
I'd move it from Main Line.  Get off of the fence;
defend it or change it.  You will not have shed
your Hereafter.

cheek sLightly bulgin', Daniel 

^{Here's a little bit of "instruction" on rondeau-writing that I wrote a while ago.  I just stumbled across it, and though it might be humorously/seriously helpful to someone:}

Trial Rondeau

To write rondeau  one must repeat
that first-breathed phrase; you can’t unseat
the rentrement. (français  I think)
One must be sober (See my wink?)
and never sour, so stick to sweet.

Between your stanzas, stop to eat,
(A microwave provides great heat!)
but come right back with pen and ink
to write rondeau.

If you get stuck, wad up the sheet
and take a walk across the street.
It helps to jar your brain to think;
sometimes that puts your muse in sync
to walk with you (if you’re discreet)
to write rondeau.

© MLee Dickens’son 15 Nov 2004


^{oh yes... and I wrote a follow-up to that, since I figured that a warning against the alluded to indescretion might be in order:}

Marilyn Rondeau

Beware that muse who’s indiscreet
though strolling rondeauesquely  sweet
across Love Lane in Lonesome Park,
especially there after dark.
Be very careful, I repeat.

You can’t imagine what she’ll eat
or how, how much; she’s hardly neat…
consumed her partner on the Ark!
Beware that muse.

You’ve been forewarned, so fill your sheet
with metaphor; she chews concrete
and spits it out.  She’s partly shark,
with bloodhound lust for loose remark,
and rumor is, she has crow’s feet.
Beware that muse!

© MLee Dickens'son 16 Nov 2004