Cosy (a British acrostic poem)

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Cuddling underneath his fleece blankie he smiled

Outside the wind is shaking the windows wanting in

Sound of the crackling flames in the fireplace lull him almost to sleep

Yawning he shut off the TV.  He wanted to live in that moment forever.

Cider (an acrostic poem)

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Cold pressed apple fluids left outside in a large jug

In the dead of winter the water freezes on top

Driving the flavor into a more concentrated solution below

Each time the blah ice is then removed and the process repeats over and over for months

Rewarded finally with a fermented drink that tasted of sunny autumn days and patience

Road (an acrostic poem)

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Racing down this country lane with you

Outside the trees fly by

As time stands still inside

Determined to never have this moment end

Still (an acrostic poem)

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Something about sitting down, eyes closed, not moving

The outside slows down and the inside opens up

It allows you to shed the pull of society’s hectic current

Letting you find a spot of calm that is at your core

Leaving you reenergized when you emerge from being…

Storm (an acrostic poem)

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Stabbing light slashed down from stone-gray clouds

The weather perfectly fit Patty’s mood as fat raindrops ravaged the arid soil

Outside nature threw one of her best temper tantrums

Reminding Patty of her last relationship when she finally broke it off

Men could be such whiners

Outpost (an acrostic poem)

Outside all was quiet except for that ever-present northern wind

Ugly clouds shouted that something bad was coming

That put Kristoff into an even more foul mood

Pulling duty in such a remote Nordic section of the kingdom was horrible

Observing his youth and career slowly blowing away in this wasteland was worse

So deep he was in his musings that he didn’t hear the twang of the released bowstring

The snow soon covered up the red stain

Row (an acrostic poem)

Residing all along a line

Outside sitting on a bench of pine

Wolfing down the meal upon which they dine

Wool (an acrostic poem)

 

Wearing the itchy stuff seemed such a hassle 

Of course, when it was cold outside it was nice and warm

On the account of rain, socks made of it were bliss 

Looks like being itchy was the price to pay for happiness 

 

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Bowl (an acrostic poem)

 

Balls doing acrobatics down the hardwood lanes

Outside the second arrow trying to find the pocket

When in reality my ball does what it wants

Leaving me more pins than I can spare.

 

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Fort (an acrostic poem)

 

Focus on your wellbeing

Outside the world may be at war

Rally inside your inner walls to defend yourself

There you can rest till it’s time to sally forth to battle again