Roots (an acrostic poem)

Reaching down, she scooped up a handful of the deep dark soil
Old smells of peat and fertilizer mingled with aromas of earth and moisture
Overhead, the sun poured light down, saturating the field
The seeds there were snuggling underneath their cozy brown blanket
So many people wondered why she chose to be a farmer, but this was where she had her…

Pillow (an acrostic poem)

Image: hips.hearstapps.com/vader-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/1643388184-best-pillows-for-sitting-up-in-bed-natura-organic-linen-lumbar-pillow-1643388162.jpg

Plowing and sowing the world of sleep

It was hard work, but he was a farmer to his soul

Little furrows stretched to the horizon containing the roots of fertile dreams and scream-inducing nightmares

Lying there, waiting to be harvested

Once he was ready and picked them, Morbius would pay him handsomely for this crop

Wait till the slumbering humans were served these delectables!

Moss (an acrostic poem)

Image: thespruce.com/thmb/HLxW76XH9Dl-j8OxRH-LKfceCZ0=/4500×3000/filters:fill(auto,1)/how-to-grow-moss-1402369-hero-4e38c0bbe4af47c68b7506cb0be33723.jpg

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

Roots (an acrostic poem)

 

Reaching down to find your center

Obtaining nutrients from the fertile soil around you

Organizing and grounding in your immediate world

Though you sway in the winds of change

Serenity is yours because your anchors run deep

 

Image: cff2.earth.com/uploads/2018/12/26100659/How-plants-alter-their-roots-to-adjust-to-soil-moisture–730×410.jpg

Journey (an acrostic poem)

Jamming on her brakes, Salama looked to her left where she saw whitewater far below

Oddly the sound reminded her of the ocean, but more chaotic, capturing the wildness it passed through

Under normal circumstances, she would want to continue the climb to the top

Reality the water called to her spirit so she began to descend

Navigating downward on tree roots and small rock outcrops she got closer to her goal

Eventually dipping her toes into that white foam and the crisp water underneath.

Yet that water was too cold to do more, so she climbed back up with a satisfied grin

 

Images: aroadventures.com/images/slider_hudson/1%20narrows2.jpeg

Kilt (an acrostic poem)

Knees are not the only things left open to the wind

Iain strike a pose, daring the world to comment

Loving his Scottish roots

Tartan waving bravely in defiance

 

Image: scotweb-objects.com/images/landing/kilts/outfit_1w_1h.jpg