So much of the white stuff littered the ground that
No trace of anything else was in view
Obscuring the need to go anywhere else
While consuming hours moving it from one place to another
Snow (an acrostic poem)
Tag Archives: snow
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
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
Wrecked (an acrostic poem)
Wasted time dribbled away from Kenny
Reaching for his mostly empty beer, he finished the job
Everyone turned as he slammed it to the bar top
Cussing at the slow bartender, he demanded another
Know what? He found out the gutter was cold with snow runoff
Eventually, he managed to get himself into a sitting position
Depositing the remains of that beer into the gutter, he watched time follow it down the drain
Image: customweddingglasses.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/ga5331.jpg
Winter Blessings (a 100 word story)
The snow continued to fall, covering the refuse of Gary’s life. He smiled at the cold whitewashing of his previous mistakes. It gave him a crisp clean perspective on his past. The sad thing was he knew soon the sun would come out and the blanket of white would melt away, allowing his warts to once again be in plain sight.
At least for now he could pretend there had been nothing wrong as he sipped his spiked hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. Spring can take its own sweet time. He was happy to be buried in blankness.
Image: fifteenspatulas.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Hot-Chocolate-Recipe-Fifteen-Spatulas-1-640×640.jpg
Untied (an acrostic poem)
Useless fingers, frozen from the cold, tried to grasp the laces
Nothing was going right. The cold was so bitter, the snow so deep
Then there were the noises in the dark. The sniffs and pants from furry four legs
It made his spine quiver. He took a step and pulled his foot out of the boot
Even though his foot was half frozen, when it crashed into the snow the chill exploded
Daylight found the boot alone in crimson snow
Image: themillions.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/snow.jpg
Snow (an acrostic poem)
Slip sliding along the sidewalk
Noting each cloud I exhale
Overcast skies drop huge flakes on my tongue
Winter has decided to play with me
Image: bucatarieindiana.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/iarna_fulg-de-nea.jpg
Spring (an acrostic poem)
Slip sliding in the freshly fallen snow
Playing tag with snow balls
Really makes for a fun day
It inspires one to drink hot chocolate with marshmallows
Normally this would be an amazing day
Gag me though since it is now April!
Image: ak8.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/25956638/thumb/10.jpg
Lost and Found (an acrostic poem)
Leaving home was always a chore for Harry
Only the comfort of solitude gave him any comfort
Still the season forced him out of his hibernation from humanity
Thus he was stuck in this terminal waiting for his flight
As if fate wanted to see him squirm, now his plane was delayed
Nothing was moving because of the two feet of white stuff outside
Denver was now his home for the next day or so
Finding a landing zone, Harry watched his fellow nomads
Outside they acted cordial, putting on a mask of civility
Under that mask, Harry could see kindred spirits
Now a sincere smile spread on his face
Despair loved company. Harry had discovered his tribe.
Image: c1.staticflickr.com/1/151/331750884_770a89bfca_b.jpg
Footsteps on the Moon
The soft white snow made crunching noises as Clarence walked across its pristine surface. Looking back at his own tracks, he wondered if Neil Armstrong’s footprints were still on the moon. What would it mean to leave such a mark on another planet and human history? Clarence looked up at the full moon, trying with all his might to see if they were still there, but he knew the gesture was futile. Still, for a moment, he thought he could glimpse that history.
A sudden wind gust swept across the landscape, snow leaping into the air and dancing to a mad tune that could only be heard in the whipping air. Clarence shuddered at the chill north wind and closed his eyes to its frolicking snowflake dance partner. Just as suddenly, the wind lost its melody and the snow sat back down waiting for the next number. Clarence looked around him, the landscape had changed in that simple moment, erasing its memory of his passing.
Clarence looked back at the moon. Those footprints might still be there, but that was a dead tidal locked rock island in a large space ocean. Even though it chilled him to the bone to think about his own mortality, he was much happier to be here where he could watch the dance around himself, even if it meant his mark on this place would eventually be blown away in the symphony of change.
Clarence continued his walk, not worried about the footsteps he was leaving behind, but about the warm glass of mulled apple cider that was yet to come.
Never Short On Words 