Crisp (an acrostic poem)

Image: assets.epicurious.com/photos/58332829de1def5b05b7eb37/4:3/w_1775,h_1331,c_limit/hard_apple_cider_21112016.jpg

Cider so hard you need a hammer and chisel to drink it

Resulting in puckered lips that would make an Instagram influencer jealous

It leaves an impression on the consumer’s soul

Searing the memory of that tree, that branch, that fruit, that moment

Permanently into your psyche

Tea (an acrostic poem)

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b8/Mug_of_Tea.JPG/1280px-Mug_of_Tea.JPG

The first person had the idea top take these leaves, dry them, and then soak them in boiling water

Evidently was equal parts insane and genius

And I salute them tonight as I lift my cup

Blue (an acrostic poem)

0514_blue-1000x667-1
Image: d279m997dpfwgl.cloudfront.net/wp/2018/05/0514_blue-1000×667.jpg

Being depressed on a day where light rains down from a robin’s egg sky

Leaves her wanting to curse up and down for feeling blah on such a perfect day

Ultimately, she goes to her safe space, puts on some B.B. King, and curls up in a ball

Enveloped in her azure blanket, she lets loose her own rain

Ominous (an acrostic poem)

Image: i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/4b/7a/c64b7ac8cfc324826dea0deabf6075bf.png

Outside, the darkness was pierced by the full moon

Making the fallen leaves look hauntingly surreal

It was then we she heard the sound of something approaching

Nearer it got, the faster it seemed to be moving, the louder it became, the harder her heart beat

Old primal fears rose from the depths of her hindbrain.  She began to flee the sound

Undulating ground eventually caught her foot causing her to sprawl to the ground

Still, the sounds were getting closer, faster, louder.

Disgusting (an acrostic poem)

Image: bookofjoe.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c5dea53ef01901d28348b970b-pi

Dominic looked at his fouled sneakers

It had started so simply that morning

Snuggling in his warm covers as the sunlight crept into the window

Getting up he put on his running gear and headed out to the trail

Under the red and orange leaves he began to jog

Soon his breath was ragged as he pushed himself harder and farther

That was when he felt that dreaded hard intestinal clenching

It made him stop and look around, but there were people everywhere

Now he tried to walk back, but about half way there he lost the battle

Giving the term “the runs” an added meaning

Hammock (an acrostic poem)

 

Hanging in the breeze without a care in the world.

As my drink perspires from all the hard work we are doing,

My mind wanders the cosmos.

Making connections that James Burke would be proud of.  (Look him up.)

Only the rustling of leaves and birds doing actual tweets break the reverie.

Can this solace last forever?

Kidding.  Child number two flops onto me, dumping us both onto the ground.

 

Image: hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/man-in-a-hammock-royalty-free-image-1585747957.jpg

Life Burns (a 100 word story)

He poked at the fire, trying to make it brighter to push back the overwhelming darkness.  Sparks danced into the air, but his feeble attempts failed to make that part of the world any more luminous.  Pissed off he unzipped and proceeded to urinate on the flames, drowning them and allowing the darkness to flood into the space.

He laughed as it so epitomized how his life treated him.

He decided to wander back to his cabin.  Being fire blinded, he tripped on a branch, falling flat on his face.  “Nope, that’s my life,” he mumbled in the fallen leaves.

 

Image: miquon.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/nighttime-campfire_e1vx-fat__F0000.png