Another attempt at the Rispetto!

A Rispetto, an Italian form of poetry, (Italian:: “respect,” – plural rispetti, a Tuscan folk verse form) is a complete poem of two rhyme quatrains. The meter is usually iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of abab ccdd. A Heroic Rispetto is written in Iambic pentameter, usually featuring the same rhyme scheme.

A variation of the RISPETTO is a poem (or song) comprised of 8 hendecasyllabic (11-syllable) lines–usually one stanza.

WALT’S RISPETTO VARIATION: (from our original look at the form in 2014)


The love in his heart was a treasure most sought,
and he thought that maybe he could store it up
and save it for a rainy day. There’s no way
he would give away the “wealth” he had amassed.
But alas, love hidden away would decay.
And to this day he pays for not sharing it.
He will die a lonely man, his love will fade,
there in his lifeless “grave” where his heart once lived.

© Copyright 2014 – Walter J Wojtanik

Will post a new poem in the comments section!


34 thoughts on “INFORM POETS – RISPETTO


    Today they carried Johnny home.
    Beneath the flag his body lies
    Encased in wood and still as stone.
    His mother sits and sadly cries.

    When will these wars come to an end?
    What year to dream all hearts will mend
    And nations wave the palm of peace?
    We pray, oh Lord, the guns will cease.


    This urchin hopping through the snow,
    his throat the same consoling white,
    seems not to care and not to know
    that winter’s cold is nowise trite.

    Instead, his flashing yellow dot
    brings sunshine where the sun is not;
    I grin so wide, my lips might bleed
    as he goes scratching through the seed.


    It’s such a simple little form:
    four little rhymes; a mere eight lines;
    iambic cadences its norm
    with nary room for monkeyshines.

    But nonetheless, one’s wary muse
    should not be smug nor turn obtuse:
    when writing one, one can’t reject
    the fact that it demands respect.

    Anniversary Tomorrow

    Some thirty seven years ago
    We made a promise in my yard.
    But very little did we know
    That keeping it would be so hard.

    So whether rich, poor, well, or sick
    With God and grit we made it stick.
    For better, worse, worser, worsest
    We’re trusting God for all the rest.

    • This must have been too negative. No one wished us a happy anniversary. 🙂 How about this?

      Anniversary Today

      Some thirty seven years ago
      We made a promise in my yard.
      But very little did we know
      That keeping it would be so hard.

      So whether rich, poor, well, or sick
      With God and grit we made it stick.
      For better, worse, great or best
      We’re trusting God for all the rest.

      • Not negative at all, Connie. Of course I wish you a Happy Anniversary! “Anniversary Tomorrow” hits close to home as I am dealing somewhere in between worser and worsest at the moment. Praying you get great or best sometime soon! Love both and wishing the happier ending for you! Sorry for missing this celebration!


    I hold you closely to my heart,
    for in you I found my true love.
    You’ve given yours right from the start
    and now you’re all that I think of.

    I worry for the pain you feel,
    I wish that I could help you heal,
    I’d take it all from you in kind,
    and pray that I won’t lose my mind!

    Fall Rispetto

    Fretwork of farmer’s field is felled
    And fruit from laden leaf-looms culled
    Spring’s framework to filled fathoms meld
    Bud-promises plucked, pulled and hulled

    Mist-trysts on frost-kissed climes amass
    Like gilded glints of shattered glass
    As glitter of forgotten wars
    Bedecks earth’s heath in breath-wreathed stars

    Tears of God

    Before the world He had a plan
    A perfect plan for all mankind
    He wrote the plan in shifting sand
    Gave mankind choice, then He resigned

    Resigned to watch as mankind fell
    Jesus came to save all from Hell
    Now as They watch from Paradise
    Our choices bring tears to Their eyes


    I love buttered macaroni
    Covered with melted pepperjack
    Some parmesan is fine with me
    Just a sprinkle then pull it back

    Gotta have pepper, freshly ground
    A spoon, a bowl, make a big mound
    Unsweet tea in an iced-filled glass
    Mac’n’Cheese heaven here at last

    My Cousin

    A cousin, a friend, a shoulder
    to lean on, she’s sharp, with great wit.
    As I live life and grow older
    I long to see her, and visit

    more frequently than distance allows.
    Phone calls seem impersonal now.
    We talk, we laugh, confide–we gel.
    In my ball of life, she’s the belle.

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