Stars (an acrostic poem)

So many distant suns twinkling as they watch from above

They escort the night across the sky

Arriving at the horizon to be relieved of their duty

Resting till called upon as their little sister fades to black

Silent sentries stoic in their duty

 

Image: images.pexels.com/photos/956981/milky-way-starry-sky-night-sky-star-956981.jpeg

Create (an acrostic poem)

Can’t make anything out of nothing

Really that’s a crock of bull

Everyone knows storytellers weave lies into whole cloth

And wrap you up inside nice and snug

That’s the stuff godhood is made of

Even if the magic eventually fades into memory

 

Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/Sei1PgkeI3o/maxresdefault.jpg