Spoons (an acrostic poem)

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So far much can you handle today?

Perhaps it is one or two more than yesterday

Or maybe it is a half dozen less

Or maybe you threw them all in the wash and need to sit out a bit

Nobody can tell you how many you have at your disposal

So do what you can and know that it’s okay

Fancy (an acrostic poem)

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Focusing on the boring fundamentals was not his strong suit

All he wanted to do was gild the lily with as much gold as it could handle

Nothing made him happier than making those around him not feel plain

Causing them to bloom and allowing him to make them sparkle even more

Yet when he looked into the mirror he didn’t see anything …

RIP (an acrostic poem)

Raising the casket onto his shoulder worried Bart, so he made sure to crouch down

Inside was Uncle Ken, and while Bart loved him for his sense of humor, he was quite a load

Pulling up hard, Bart felt his pants tear in the seat and knew Ken was laughing.  He joined in.

 

Image:  thenypost.files.wordpress.com/2018/09/man-sues-funeral-home-for-allegedly-putting-wrong-corpse-in-casket.jpg

Thirst (an acrostic poem)

Too many times he had gone back to the pump

He was doing it again even now

It wasn’t going to change anything.  The water wouldn’t be there

Reaching for the ancient handle, he pumped it up and down vigorously

Staring at the dusty spout, begging for a hint of liquid to form at its edge

They found him there two weeks later still searching for a drink

 

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bf/An_old_Hand_Pump_at_Yeleswaram.jpg