Dial (an acrostic poem)

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Digits scattered around in a ritualistic circle

It spun and clicked as it began its spell

And soon there were disembodied voices talking from the other side

Listen close and you might hear grandma

Trust (an acrostic poem)

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The money wasn’t everything. Okay, who was he trying to fool.

Really it was all about the money, but he didn’t have to admit it.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have to work a day in his life.

Such was the life of a fund baby. all thanks to grandma.

That was before he put his faith in his lawyer and that prenup agreement.

Perfume (an acrostic poem)

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Putting globules of memories into the air

Enabling the scent of the past to permeate the world

Rose and citrus mixed with grandma and the lake

Funny how smell is the sense that triggers all this

Urging us to remember

Molding the moment into something nostalgic

Except when it causes us to sneeze

Style (an acrostic poem)

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Stripes of red and yellow paired with polka dots

That were purple and orange

Yelled out loud that she had entered the room

Leaving no doubt in her confident defiance of the norms

Everyone envied Grandma’s audacity