Paradise (an acrostic poem)

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Putting my toes in the ocean with the wind in my hair and the heavy scent of salt in the air

And if not then a crystal clear lake with cabins and joy all around

Rural roads with mile upon mile of fresh blacktop and not a car in sight

A strong wind during twilight bringing the fresh smell of a coming storm

Dark night under the stars, friends to either side sharing stories and jokes

Icy cold in contrast to a bright sun reflecting off a virgin snowfall

Surreally painted skies at the beach, good tunes on the radio, watching the sun sink slowly off stage west

Everyone should occasionally go to their special place to recharge their soul in their own …

Mess (an acrostic poem)

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Making things usually left his desk a little cluttered, and he loved to make stuff

Everything started within reach, but by the end, some of creative debris was in the other room

Someday he would learn to put everything back in its place when he was done with it

Still, he thought of his whole experience in terms of his need to be creative, not that the output was a chaotic…

Bistro (an acrostic poem)

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Being as hungry as he was, he sat with the menu pondering his options.

It was always tempting to just say, “I’ll have one of everything.”

Silly as that thought was…

Though maybe today was the day to do it.

Really, he had the funds for a once-in-a-lifetime splurge, and this was the right place.

Ordering it all, he made friends sharing all the tapas.

Lumber (an acrostic poem)

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Log after log swung off the truck and onto the mud

Under a gray sky that threatened snow any day now

Maybe she would have time to get this cabin built, but it would be close, too close.

Before she had moved out here, all she knew was the stuff you got from Home Depot or Lowes

Every day in this wilderness ingrained into her a sense of place, a sense of nature

Reaching for the first log with her backhoe, she eased her future over the foundation wall. Time to build her future.

Maze (an acrostic poem)

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Making out of this place alive was going to take skill and daring

All the exotic animals surrounding him made it even harder

Zoos were supposed to be places of wonder and discovery

Except he was just a humble peacock, and all these stupid paths became one evil…

Farm (an acrostic poem)

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Finding your food on the ground usually is a bad thing

And would be frowned upon picking it up and popping it into your mouth

Radishes and watermelons were there for the taking though

Making this one place where there was way more than the ten-second rule.

Empty (an acrostic poem)

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Every word he wrote on the paper was a bucket full of holes

Making them equally as worthless at holding anything inside

Perhaps he should just give up now and save the time and effort

Though it did make the lifting of each one easier in its own way

Yes, maybe he would haul of them into place now since it was easy and spackle it all together during rewrites

Curse (an acrostic poem)

Can’t believe just because I decided to have a bit of fun with this Russian chick that I’m now here

Under the full moon we made out for a while, and everything was cool till she invited me to her place

Really should have said no, but she was like too hot, so I went to her house

So that’s when it got really weird.  Her house had feet.  Chicken feet! I told her she was too freaky for me

Everything happened so quickly.  She took offense, and needless to say, now I’m the one with damn chicken feet!

Complete (an acrostic poem)

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Carnage had been prophesied since the day of her birth

Obliterate the evil, or else she would fail, and the world would burn

Many people tried to guide her, their interests, they felt, were the same as hers

Pulling her six different ways at once, she ended up pitting them against each other

Letting their division give her the room to find her own way

Everything was going well.  The darkness was beaten back.

The final battle took place, and in the end, she was victorious

Everyone’s cheers turned to screams when she didn’t stop and began attacking them

Operate (an acrostic poem)

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Old things had to make way for the new

Pulling back on the lever, the wrecking ball swung and smashed into the wall

Everywhere the ball hit, destruction reigned

Reducing the old structure into historic rubble

And she knew she was good at what she was doing

The crane danced to her choreography, each pirouette punctuated by the boom of connection

Enabling her to place the final period to that building’s story