Grill (an acrostic poem)

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Good char slowly developed on the wieners

Releasing their juices to drip onto the hungry flames below

It made a pleasing aroma to those gathered around

Leaving them to contemplate the communal feast they were about to partake

Loving the dog days of summer

Low (an acrostic poem)

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Life kind of getting you down?

Or are you just having one of those blah days?

Well remember you still have a friend here you can talk to, or Garth Brooks if he’s around.

Sorry (an acrostic poem)

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So, obviously I have not been posting that much to my blog lately

Oh believe me, I wanted to keep publishing every day, but I had my reasons

Reason one, my professional life has demanded more of my time

Reason two, I needed to get a bunch of stuff done around my house

Yet the time is coming where I will return.  Thank you, and please keep checking in

Phone (an acrostic poem)

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Perhaps the most antiquated name for such a modern device

Here is a pocket supercomputer

Or a way to send text messages around the globe in a blink of an eye

No one thinks its primary function is to hold a voice conversation anymore

Everyone keeps it on silent and never answers anyway

Spiral (an acrostic poem)

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Spinning around and around in tighter and tighter circles

Putting my equilibrium into the fetal position

I try to stop, but the world is now spinning up as I slow down

Reaching for the floor, I miss

And fall into some space that I didn’t know existed

Living now the pinwheel life

Swarm (an acrostic poem)

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So many annoyances buzzing all around.

Why are they picking on me?

All I want to do is swat at these bothersome gits

Releasing me to get on with my life

Maybe if I bought one of those electric zappers

Flip (an acrostic poem)

 

Feeling like a coin spinning through the air

Listing endlessly from heads to tails and back again

It makes for an uncomfortable situation and fills those around you with apprehension.

Perhaps instead of chocolate or vanilla soft serve,  you might settle on your edge, twist!

 

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Pi Day (an acrostic poem)

Perhaps being irrational is just my style

I keep going around and around

 

Didn’t stop slicing it into pieces

As I stuff as much into my face

You mean it’s a number?  Eat my shorts!

 

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