Soup (an acrostic poem)

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Slurping the yummy broth made her taste buds dance

Oregano and tomato played the bass notes

Under the delightful melody of lemon zest high notes

Pasta applying the percussion on her tongue

Shine (an acrostic poem)

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Stars do their ballet dance

High above her head

It gives her goosebumps

Nighttime performances like this were awe inspiring

Especially as some performers blazed across the stage

Chance (an acrostic poem)

Converting luck into action

He tossed the spinning dice from his hand

And as they flew through the air, probabilities spun with them

Not collapsing the distribution curve until done with their dance

Cascading all possibilities into a single outcome

Everything random transforms into fate

Dance (an acrostic poem)

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Deep bass notes punctuated the melody

Announcing it was time to get up

Nascent instincts awaken and bodies begins to move

Creating a kinetic ephemeral work of art

Even though some of the pieces need some tweaking

Rhythm (an acrostic poem)

 

Reaching down deep for the beat

You feel it leap through your body

The pulses making muscles ripple and contract

How can you not dance to its command?

Maybe because your feet can’t hear the …

 

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Clippy (Spenserian Sonnet Style)

Clippy was my dearest friend

As I worked upon my book

He always had advice to send

As I wrote my gobbledygook

 

Every day I would see him look

As the words would begin to flow

He would always give his outlook

On how my formatting should go

 

But then one day he wanted to show

A way to format the entire thing

He had me select my manifesto

All with one gigantic swing

 

I blame my friend Clippy, and not the hard booze

For now there was nothing left of my dance with my muse

 

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Crispy (an acrostic poem)

Chicken crunched satisfyingly as she chomped down

Relishing the fatty juices playing with her tongue

It made her soul dance with joy

So it surprised her when Bill complained about her chewing

Perhaps he needed to be breaded and deep-fried

Yes, that would make him more palatable

 

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Snowday (an acrostic poem)

Shivering, watching the ice crystals dance

No way I was going outside in that

Ordinarily, the precipitation wouldn’t be that bad

What was bad was the bundled cold with it

Deathly wind chill well below what was safe

And so I will sit here by the fire

Yet I know soon the white stuff will need to be shoveled

 

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