Wednesday Poems : Paradelle at Mill Pond

I began my writing life as a poet and as a result, I have a lot of poems. A lot. A whole real lot. So, for a while, I thought I might post some of them here in a new blog I'm calling Wednesday Poems. Because today is Wednesday. And Wednesday, like all days, is a great day for poetry.
This week, I'm posting a paradelle. This is, in fact, the only paradelle I've ever written. It's a form-poem in which the first and second lines are repeated, then the third and fourth lines take the exact words from the first four lines and reorder them. In the last stanza, all the words are reordered.
Paradelle is, to my mind, the most difficult form I've come across. Which may explain why I've only ever written one. Paradelle at Mill Pond is a study, looking to the water after a stone has been cast.

Paradelle at Mill Pond 

A stone tumbled from my careless hand
A stone tumbled from my careless hand
Cast ripples to bend the wavering maples
Cast ripples to bend the wavering maples
My wavering hand cast ripples to bend a stone
tumbled from the careless maples

Even swallows that carry sun
Even swallow that carry sun
Across narrow wings turned to blur
Across narrow wings turned to blur
Carry that narrow sun turned to blur
across the swallow's even wings

Folded leaves floated like rocking boats
Folded leaves floated like rocking boats
In the shallow water
In the shallow water
Shallow boats in the folded water
floated like rocking leaves

Even a cast stone turned to blur
folded wings floated across my rocking hand
swallows tumbled from narrow leaves
like careless boats that carry sun ripples
to bend the shallow maples
in the wavering water