I dig. it's been too long since a poetry class, so I'll leave the important ciphering up to the experts. I enjoy how your poems often mix a sense of playfulness with a sense of loss or regret. I also enjoy how you mix up idioms and turn them on their head.

I get the format, it’s cool, I looked up villanelle before I read the poem. As far as the thrust, I could say Chalice and the blood of Christ but the love Goddess threw me for a curve. It could be a guy drinking some Boones farm out of a Flintstones Jelly jar thinking about his old lady. To me poetry is about emotion as opposed to conveying a specific idea. This poem inspired me with the wonder of wine in the transformation of it from a vine and the “spirit” it holds also the precious metals and gems of its container. Eros suggested a beautiful woman, which entered the imagery (or a dude if you go that way, there’s nothing wrong with that). The ending I had to decide was the “two are one, to one combine” the man/woman or Goblet/wine; I chose the latter. The format worked great. As far as that goes and keeping on topic, what’ll really blow your mind up is:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
Get that poem stuck in your head, Poe was crazy.

That was the original form of the poem. It is a villanelle the most famous of which is Dylan Thomas' 'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night'. Look at the rhyme scheme and you can see why it the most difficult form to write. Also, the first and third lines must repeat is the third line of the following stanzas with them repeating in the last two lines of the final stanza. Do you get the significant thrust of the poem? (Hint: altar)

I can see two or three possible connotations, the most promising of which is lover who has either died or disappeared with no word or trace. The writer is yearning for what was and , most likely, will never have again.

Try this villanelle for size:

This Ancient Rune, This Honored Sign

This ancient rune, this honored sign
Signals still to that which seeks
This living, restful savored wine.

Often subtly wrought, in fine
Gold, silver, jewels speaks
This ancient rune, this honored sign.

Eros, patron to the wondrous vine
And fruit from which, winsome peeks
This living, restful, savored wine.

When quiet made and bound divine,
Time seldom mars with weathered streaks
This ancient rune, this honored sign.

Drink deeply then and taste define
Where , in the mind, softly wreaks
This living, restful, savored wine.

The two are one, to one combine.
They are those to which honor speaks.
This ancient rune, this honored sign;
This living, restful, savored wine.

A goblet of wine and the language of love. It’s very mystical the first time through, great imaging.
Hey! I have a suggestion. Go to file/Options/Proofing/auto correct options/capitalize first letter of sentences. You can turn this off and the poem will read the way you originally wrote it.
I enjoyed your poem.
It reminded me of a poem I wrote. You’ll be the first person I’ve shared this poem with, it’s just fun.
Runic Romance

I was counting on match sticks
to show me a sign.
Deciphering tea leaves and
Turkish coffee grinds.
With the outlook uncertain
in the magic eight
while the stylus on Ouija
seemed to hesitate,
I looked into the mirror,
mirror on the wall.
That’s when I was certain
you didn’t call.

You didn’t call me baby,
you didn’t call me back.
You called the witch doctor,
about our heart attack.
If you found your true calling
about what was meant to be.
Then I’m lost and I’m falling
into apathy.

At the séance, tarot cards
seemed to suggest
the specter among us, I
would never rest.
I’m hopelessly spellbound
by your lottery charms.
It’s hypnotic how I feel
you right here in my arms.

I hear you call me baby,
captured in my trance.
You’re calling me sweetheart
in our runic romance.

Stitch
Can you dig it?

wow. dig it, spin