Mole (an acrostic poem)

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Making traditional Mexican sauces always made Maria smile

Of course, her Abuela made them so well that she should really sell them, but she wouldn’t

Leading to Maria secretly recording the kitchen for the next 24 hours

Everyone will suspect her brother when the recipe gets sold, but she was going to be the…

Sense (an acrostic poem)

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She smelled easy money in the air

Everyone was all beer, pizza, and Buffalo winged out.

Now she felt it was time for her to execute her plan while they were in the drunken gluttony afterglow

So fellas, listen up. What do you say we have a little side wager on the game?

Everyone agreed. Two hours later she was seen five hundred dollars richer

Snow (an acrostic poem)

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So much of the white stuff littered the ground that

No trace of anything else was in view

Obscuring the need to go anywhere else

While consuming hours moving it from one place to another

Hubris (an acrostic poem)

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He thought he knew exactly what to do

Until he found out the hardware wouldn’t work

Being too smart for his own good he whipped up something new

Realizing that was a wasted four hours because he had just simply wired the original backwards

It had worked all the time if he had just opened his eyes and slowed down

So much for a calm Sunday

Yarn (an acrostic poem)

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Yearning to wear soft cashmere sweaters

Asking others to make them for me seems silly since I could make one

Reaching for my knitting needles I start my first stitch

Now after five hours, and not getting past stitch three, I pick up the phone and call…

Fast (an acrostic poem)

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Flying by quicker than a speeding bullet

And laughing at how slow that bullet really is

Seconds and minutes turn into hours before you know it

That is the type of speed that kills productivity

Sprint (an acrostic poem)

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Scurrying thoughts running crazy inside his head

Put him on his mental treadmill, trying to exercise them away

Reaching an exhaustion level that would allow him to fall unconscious

It sometimes worked, but tonight the ideas and thoughts were too fast

Not that he gave up dashing after them, but waking hours passed slowly

That’s what made the alarm the next morning such a rude starting pistol for the new day

Anchor (an acrostic poem)

 

Adrift in a sea of high emotions

No sunrise on the horizon to be found

Caution blew away with the high winds hours ago

Hearing the waves pounding on the rocks

Only thing he could safely do was ground himself against the current

Releasing the weight, he felt it plunge deep and hold, but for how long

 

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