Outpost (an acrostic poem)

Outside all was quiet except for that ever-present northern wind

Ugly clouds shouted that something bad was coming

That put Kristoff into an even more foul mood

Pulling duty in such a remote Nordic section of the kingdom was horrible

Observing his youth and career slowly blowing away in this wasteland was worse

So deep he was in his musings that he didn’t hear the twang of the released bowstring

The snow soon covered up the red stain

Doorman (an acrostic conversation)

Do you remember when they didn’t open automatically?”

Of course I do.  I’m older than you, you fool.”

Obviously, look at your lack of hair.”

Really?  I’m going to kick you through one in just a second.”

Man, just calm down.  Back then, people, had jobs opening them.”

And where the hell are you going with this?”

Now my backup career is becoming extinct, and I never got one of the hats.”

Exposed (an acrostic poem)

Everyone was playing so well, but now it was time to crescendo

Xylophone mallets at the ready, Bob waited for his cue for his first ever solo

Practically tasting the increase in intensity, Bob’s hands started to sweat

Only Bob didn’t dare dry them, he just concentrated on not letting them slip

Suddenly it was time for Bob to play.  He swung the mallets downward

Everything slowed down as Bob watched it all go so wrong

Down went the poleaxed conductor, and so ended Bob’s career

 

Image: media.defense.gov/2011/May/23/2000253049/-1/-1/0/110519-F-JA180-102.JPG