Jesus desires Lynnice in this villanelle.
He probably sort of would've anyhow.
The long and rolling trouble of a bell

disturbs him here, however:  heaven and hell
are dull, dull matters to our savior now--
Jesus desires Lynnice in this villanelle.

And shall he have her?  The question will not quell,
but gathers more rowdily than he would allow,
the long and rolling trouble of a bell.

And would his stars all tumble?  Oh who can tell?
The angels in their melodious powwow
sing Jesus desires Lynnice in this villanelle,

and choir on ringing choir in loud rondelle--
green waves that ramble to cream upon a prow,
the long and rolling trouble of a bell--

assail his soul, extol, appeal, compel:
oh let him bleed in other poems.  I vow
Jesus desires Lynnice in this villanelle,
longing to roll and trouble her like a bell.

--Originally published in Lucille