By Many Roundelays, a sonnet

By Many Roundelays, a sonnet



for Ludwig van Beethoven, and his Symphony no. 6
in F major, “La Pastorale”, III, Allegro, “Sturm” 

Our Earth, from space, goes spinning, Queen of Spheres,
composing clouds in rounds of roundelays,
so thrilling them they rain allegro tears
all over greening fields by stormed-in bays.
As stallions madly wing on lightning hooves,
they beat the Seven Seas, and break the calm.
They race to hem the hale moon in, that moves
their fears to tear us from our smug aplomb.
Our prayers are vain! They’ll never acquiesce
in any urge to quell our fears of gales,
our foibles sins to them, the stallionesque!
For who can take to heart their stunning tales?
   If they run mad, though I may be God’s fool,
   would poets foam for them where full moons rule?


Richard Vallance, © 2013

Full Measure, a Sonnet

Full Measure, a Sonnet



for a dear friend

The measure of our love is fully gained
again, and once again we have ensured
our love can never never be restrained, 
though decades pass. And so it has endured.

If you and I had never fallen out
we never would have rediscovered bliss;
now since it’s certain we are both devout
our God ordains our love is not remiss.

Since God ordains our love from Heaven’s gate,
we may rest assured He loves us dearly,
and know no time for love can come too late
since in sharing grace we love sincerely.

And though we die, we never die in death
but share the breath of Heaven’s hallowed breath.


© by Richard Vallance Janke

Sept. 14 2018; revised Feb. 22 2019 

Sonnet of mine based on the 2 previous black haiku… Who the hell?

Who the hell?



Matthew 16:23
Get behind me, Satan! 


As madness burrows through the psyche’s realm,
it means to chew her up and spit her out.
I ask you, who the hell was at the helm?
And who was God to prove, “What’s that all about?” 

It rankles me too few will dare to ask
why some of us are sane and others not,
why some are not, while some are called to task,
while others see their faith is come to naught.

If faith in God were not enough, then what  
in hell would satisfy our lust for love,
and what in Heaven’s name has madness wrought
to place us altogether on the spot?

Since your concern was just an empty show, 
Don’t ask me why. You know I’ll never know.

Richard Vallance,


January 10, 2017