Some call me a closed-form elitist
And might ask of me to delete this
Though free-verse may be a purple rose
I will often say, “this could be prose”
Flowery words which at random break
Give me a feeling I just can’t shake
Stanzas that eschew a firm meter
Go with the Daughter of Demeter
On “lack of periods”, don’t be Harsh
My structure is clearer than a marsh
My words are bound precisely with twine
Showcased with breaks of stanza and line
All ascending alliterations
Dastardly driven derivations
Reinforce rapid repeating rhymes
That tell these things to temper their time
Free-verse cannot bring this form of art
Though those who write it may be quite smart
Pattern is what can be learned by heart
Closed-form shall always be set apart
Originally published in the 2023 edition of The Hedge Apple.
Crayshack 