Slice (an acrostic poem)

She held the knife in two hands like a samurai sword.

Looking at the watermelon, her sworn enemy, she bowed her head.

It was going to be a battle to the death, but she didn’t feel like dying tonight!

Cutting deftly, the watermelon never had a chance and soon it was bleeding chunks on her counter.

Extremely happy with herself, she popped a piece in her mouth and spit out the seeds.

Diner (an acrostic poem)

 

Dinner rush was hitting hard, not a seat at the counter was empty

It was moments like this that made Tracy’s spirit sing

Nudging her to be more efficient taking orders, expediting, and jumping on the line

Energy flowed from her to her customers satisfying their appetite for perfection

Rush ended and Tracy felt wrung out since she had poured out her soul into their meals

 

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