Untied (an acrostic poem)

Useless fingers, frozen from the cold, tried to grasp the laces

Nothing was going right.  The cold was so bitter, the snow so deep

Then there were the noises in the dark.  The sniffs and pants from furry four legs

It made his spine quiver.  He took a step and pulled his foot out of the boot

Even though his foot was half frozen, when it crashed into the snow the chill exploded

Daylight found the boot alone in crimson snow

 

Image: themillions.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/snow.jpg

Word Count (an acrostic poem)

When sitting down in front of her computer

Olivia began her daily penance

Racing fingers

Dancing on the keyboard

 

Crafting new realms from the ether

Outpouring her imagination onto the page

Until she felt she could write no more that day

Nanowrimo would push her to become the writer she wanted to be

That or break her will to write till New Years.

 

Image: blogs.hope.edu/students/wp-content/uploads/sites/6/2015/11/nanoprep.jpg

Framed In (a 150 word story)

Framing the new wall in his basement, Marcus was finally content with its positioning.  It wasn’t his best work, but because of the urgency to get it done, he was happy with it.

He would have been even happier if Dave hadn’t messed up the old wall, making Marcus do this fix.  If the man could have just controlled himself.  But no, he had to keep one-upping Marcus.  Marcus had warned him there would be consequences, but Dave didn’t care and kept pushing.  Now he was gone and left Marcus to fix the problem.

Marcus picked up the first piece of drywall.  He tried to wedge it into place, but Dave’s fingers were in the way.  “Who knew dead bodies would be so uncooperative.”  He chopped off the offending digits, hung the drywall, and chucked the fingers behind it.  Good thing he had drained the body.

“Rest in pieces.”

 

Image: constructionprotips.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/9/2017/12/framingagainstbasement1217.jpg

Cyborg (an acrostic poem)

Couldn’t feel his fingers anymore

Yet it didn’t matter since the ones he flexed weren’t really his

Being part robot did have its uses

Or you could say he was being used because he was the first part robot

Really it didn’t matter.  He was alive and able to hold his son

Giving his human side great joy

 

Image : media.npr.org/assets/img/2010/08/02/eyes_wide-ee2ce8a648f593039426ea969b842a3de9dee287-s900-c85.jpg

Tickle (an acrostic poem)

Temptation to reach out and do more than touch

I pulled my hands back, my fingers flexing

Carrie giggled and shimmied closer

Kissing was now in range, but still I held back

Last thing I wanted to do was cause her to run away

Everything would depend if I could keep making her giggle

 

Image: photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4185/576/1600/New_Amy%20Lee%202.jpg