je suis folle de toi

C'est pas ma faute
l'hiver rapide est arrivée.
C'est pas ma faute,
c'est mon coeur qui très lâche tressaute
et tout le monde sont captivés.
Le tourbillon inexpliqué,
c'est pas ma faute.


NB: If there are any French-speakers in my audience, please let me know if I have absolutely bollixed this--I'm eleven years away from being able to speak competently, and I refuse to use Google Translate or similar, so this was done with my dictionary and memory alone.  Merci mille fois!

ruby-throated

Crimson sparks flashing bright

dress up this hovering, otherwise-drab hummingbird.

Crimson sparks flashing bright, 

an unexpected treasure, a shocking secret overheard.

This day may not be ending as I would have preferred,

but I can look forward to stars glimmering in the night,

and crimson sparks, flashing bright.

This week's format is the rondelet, about which I've posted AT GREAT LENGTH on the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads for the Tuesday Format Challenge.  This is my first attempt, and while it isn't particularly awful?  I'll be adding the rondelet to the growing number of poetic formats that require more attention.  Sigh.