Scream (an acrostic poem)

Silence wrapped its hands around her throat

Containing the sounds that wanted to escape

Racing pulse rate filled in the empty soundscape

Except she was the only one to hear it’s percussive note

As the room began to grow gray, then black

Making a noise seemed the least of her concerns

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Ninja (an acrostic poem)

Nobody saw her until it was too late

It meant usually she was the last thing they ever saw

Now she was approaching her next target

Just a few more meters, a few more moments, just a few more heartbeats

And then she faded to black again

 

Image: i.pinimg.com/originals/15/47/16/154716e24105693b4e67046d75e00e86.jpg

Soul (an acrostic poem)

Sounds escaped the sax that built a castle of blue ice

Over that the horns mourned the loss of innocence

Until the drums came in, then picked up the tempo

Letting everything melt into an ecstasy of melody

 

Image: publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/170000/velka/chalked-blackboard-saxophone.jpg

Mind (an acrostic poem)

Making most of intellectual opportunities

It only made sense to continue for her second PhD

Nancy smiled as she graduated again then struck a pose

Don’t mess with a double hooded smartass

Image: images.idgesg.net/images/article/2017/10/brain-computer_interface_binary_mind_telepathic_computing_thinkstock_845092266-100740659-large.jpg

Heart (an acrostic poem)

Heather tried to just walk away

Every part of her screamed for her to do so

And yet she ran towards the trouble

Reaching out to help those mired in its grasp

To make a difference while blood still pumped through her veins

 

Image: c1.staticflickr.com/1/4/5101812_f16cd13f6b_b.jpg

Aliens (an acrostic poem)

Always it was about the Question, not the Answer

Life, and everything on Earth, did the computing

It was such a marvel even the fjords won an award

Everything seemed destined to work.  The Question was about to be solved

No one knew why the Answer was 42, and they still don’t

Since the Vogons destroyed Earth for a hyperspace bypass….

 

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Blessed (an acrostic poem)

Being all alone was hard on Mary

Losing Rachel at such a young age left a scar

Even after four years, Mary would return weekly to the grave site

Sharing her thoughts and dreams, troubles and victories

So much of her life was under that dirt

Everything just seemed so much harder

Daily though she thanked God for the chance to keep Rachel alive in her heart

 

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