Ration (an acrostic poem)

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Reaching into the sack, he handed his daughter a small potato

And her look of disappointment hurt his heart so much

That was the best he could do, at least she would have something in her tummy tonight

If he could do more, he would

Only if he gave her more now, she would go without later that week

Now to bully his hunger into being quiet until he got her to bed

Moss (an acrostic poem)

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Maybe the rolling stone wasn’t that great after all

Only by finding a quiet, still place can you put down some roots

Soul-nourishing peace grounding away the pent-up anxious energy

Soaking in patience waiting for the right stone to come

Nocturnal (an acrostic poem)

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Nighttime was when he was awake and alive

Observing his domain as he prowled the streets

Citizens were happily in their beds now

They were dreaming dreams of a light-filled world

Under which people like him were just fragments of lore

Real-world boogeymen who cleaned up society’s messes

Now that suited him just fine

As he enjoyed the peace and quiet of owning the blacktop

Lifting another trashcan, he deposited the contents in the back of the truck before moving on

Tribe (an acrostic poem)

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They were always looking for a place to settle down in

Running was so tiring, and the souls of their shoes were getting holey

It would start with that awkward silence that announced the countdown to launch

But this time there was no moment of quiet in the cacophony of laughter

Everyone deserves to find where their weird is the normal, and that’s how they knew they found their people, their…

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

Silent (an acrostic poem)

She drifted to the back of the room

It just felt more comfortable being out of the spotlight

Liza didn’t like performing on demand

Even when she was paid for it she had such anxiety

Now allow her her quiet space and she blossomed

That was hard when you were master of ceremonies

 

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Quiet (an acrostic poem)

Quorum was reached without a single word said

United they cast their reticent votes into the hat

It would only be a few silent moments before the whole thing was over

Even though the ramifications would echo unspoken for years

Too bad the rest of the group was tone deaf to the problem

 

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