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    dots Submission Name: Brother Henrydots

    Author: mae
    Elite Ratio:    5.96 - 597/644/262
    Words: 127
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1166
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 888

       My husband's cousin was a real hell-raiser when he was younger. Now he's a fire-and-brimstone preacher. This is about him.

    From my Branches on the Family Tree series

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsBrother Henrydots

    From behind a crystal pulpit
    Brother Henry proclaims The Word.

    Born the youngest son of a
    hard luck farmer,
    Henry wore his charm
    like an oft-washed shirt,
    soft and easy and a little frayed.

    With his maize-colored hair
    and snapping blue eyes,
    joy followed him like a puppy
    and adventure found him
    through the open door of his smile.

    Church was a desert
    when he was a boy,
    dry and brittle,
    and held no draw for him;
    but his teen-aged bride offered
    grown-up prayers
    and joy took on a new look.

    Henry found God.

    Now with the zeal of one saved
    from destruction,
    his radio-preacher voice
    resonates through the congregation,

    And joy overflows his eyes.

    Submitted on 2009-01-06 16:51:31     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      A very nice poem - objective, about a real person and written in plain yet elegant English. Pity such a pleasant sounding bloke wasted his life in pursuit of something as vain as religion. Let us hope that the joy on his face was really from the delight he found in his new bride.
    However despite my prejudice against religion, as a poet I have to reiterate that I thought your poem very good.
    | Posted on 2009-01-07 00:00:00 | by hanuman | [ Reply to This ]
      This is very original and definitely makes me want to know more about brother henry!
    | Posted on 2009-01-06 00:00:00 | by freeangel | [ Reply to This ]
      This almost feels as if it's just an introduction. It seems like there should be so much more to be said about him...
    Or maybe that's just me.

    Born the youngest son of a
    hard luck farmer,
    Henry wore his charm
    like an oft-washed shirt,
    soft and easy and a little frayed.

    This strophe sounds like an excerpt from a biography. It's a little... conventional?? I think that's what I want to say. Just woke up. I'm still a little fuzzy
    But the last three lines of that strophe are great.


    I think this is becoming highly nonconstructive...
    It's written well, but somehow I want more...


    Thanks fer sharing

    | Posted on 2009-01-06 00:00:00 | by trouble | [ Reply to This ]

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