Treasure (an acrostic poem)

The sand blew across the beach, stinging Ray’s face

Roaring waves ran themselves onto the shore

Everything screamed pirate to him

And to think the chest could be buried right below his feet

So many years ago his grandfather had hinted about this very place

Under the tropical sun, Ray was finally ready to prove the old man right

Reaching for his shovel he began to dig, looking for the possible riches

Eventually Grandpa laughed, picking Ray up and carrying him into the surf

 

Image: beach.ambient-mixer.com/images_template/e/0/e/e0e11a39f651c33dd8ef3d21e3937f4d_full.jpg

Snow (an acrostic poem)

I decided to do the Inktober Challenge in my own way.  I am going to try to do an acrostic for each Inktober prompt.  Hence the topic for today.

 

So the air took on a decisive chill

Now was the time to put away the mower and find the shovel

October wasn’t too early to prepare because who knew

When the white stuff would begin to fall

 

Image: gannett-cdn.com/presto/2019/01/17/USAT/e7d8fe01-5653-49e8-b184-3813ad140ea7-best-snow-shovels-2019-true-temper.png

Ashes to Ashes (a 100 word story)

The ashes drifted down from the sky, covering everything for miles.  Those ashes were people’s lives and memories, and he was there to stop more people’s memories from clogging the landscape.

Davis picked up his shovel and began to dig once again.  While the task was physically and mentally grueling, he kept thinking how good it would feel to wash off those memories when the job was done and the fire was contained.   But for now it was him and his shovel, and he wasn’t going to let those people down.

Memories are precious and shouldn’t go up in smoke.

 

Image: climatefeedback.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Thomas-Fire-1.jpg