My Arch Nemesis
by Holly Braendlein (age 17)
Poems and I don’t get along.
Words form and every time
When I go to write a poetic song
It never properly rhymes.
Put words here, there, in their place,
Make sure they line up and work.
Finally, trim the piece with lace,
Only to end up seeing it go bezerk.
Why can’t I express through verse?
Prose is my friend, fiction my pal.
My non-poetic talent is a curse,
A habit much like a witchy gal.
But come to me needing a tale
And I’ll oblige with my pocket of paragraphs.
My price is fair; in fact, for sale!
My tales will make you cry, shout, or laugh.
But don’t ask me to tackle verse,
For they haunt me and prod me
With how much I botch and curse
The timid little rhymes and stories.
About the Poet
Holly Braendlein is a recently graduated homeschooler, aged 17, who loves to tell stories in any way she can, but especially the ultimate Story. You’ll find her other written works in previous issues of Pure in Heart, as well as the Christian Canadian magazine entitled Reformed Perspective. Holly currently lives in Kent, WA.
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