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Terzanelle
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The Terzanelle is a poetry type which is a combination of the villanelle and the terza rima forms.  It is a 19-line poem consisting of five interlocking triplets/tercets plus a concluding quatrain in which the first and third lines of the first triplet appear as refrains. The middle line of each triplet is repeated, reappearing as the last line of the succeeding triplet with the exception of the center line of the next-to-the-last stanza which appears in the quatrain. The rhyme and refrain scheme for the triplets is as follows:

1. A
2. B
3. A

4. b
5. C
6. B

7. c
8. D
9. C

10. d
11. E
12. D

13. e
14. F
15. E

Ending Type 1:

16.  f
17.  A
18.  F
19.  A

Ending Type 2:

16.  f
17.  F
18.  A
19.  A

Each line of the poem should be the same metrical length.

Example #1:

A River Flows
 
A gentle river flows
In the valley below
A gentle river flows
Where blue carnations grow
On the shores of heartache
In the valley below
where loves dreams re-awake
with the passing seasons
on the shores of heartache
no one knows the reasons
loves heart will beat once more
with the passing seasons
on this lone distant shore
where sadness is lifted
loves heart will beat once more
when the spirits shifted
A gentle river flows
where sadness is lifted
A gentle river flows
 
Copyright 2003 Crystal Rose
 

Example #2:

September
 
September, drifting in with glow of moon,
You stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and she grieves.
In guise of fire, then Fall comes all too soon.
 
Your breath grows cool.  You’ll blow and loosen leaves.
The hills and woodlands will reflect new hues.
You stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and she grieves.
 
In Autumn’s chill, the colors are a ruse.
For as you pass, the trees are set ablaze.
The hills and woodlands then reflect new hues.
 
Though warmth may linger through your final days,
old Sun is waning, yet he still seems strong!
For as you pass, the trees are set ablaze.
 
September, you’re a melancholy song.
Though time be short, you paint a brilliant dusk!
Old sun is waning, yet he still seems strong.
 
October looms. . . Your ending will be brusque.
September, drifting in with glow of moon,
though time be short, you paint a brilliant dusk.
In guise of fire, then Fall comes all too soon.
 
Copyright 2006 Andrea Dietrich