Land (an acrostic poem)

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Lifting a scoop of earth.

And smelling the damp dark soil.

Nothing Is quite like it in the world.  It recharges the soul.

Doing the same with this white stuff? Yeah, not that.

Storm (an acrostic poem)

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Stabbing light slashed down from stone-gray clouds

The weather perfectly fit Patty’s mood as fat raindrops ravaged the arid soil

Outside nature threw one of her best temper tantrums

Reminding Patty of her last relationship when she finally broke it off

Men could be such whiners

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

 

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Costly (an acrostic poem)

Casualty numbers kept trickling in

Obscuring the greatness of the victory

Still, Vincent had to admit he’d lost over a quarter of his troops

They sold their lives dearly though

Littering the fertile fields with their enemy’s dead

Years later the soil still held the scent of their sacrificial blood

 

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Soil (an acrostic poem)

Some earth is rich and brown, ready for life to spring forth

Obviously this wasn’t that.  The war had across this dirt

It was ashen gray and crumbled in Jim’s hands

Looking at the ruined horizon, Jim knew he had to make it work, or else…

 

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Shout (an acrostic poem)

Standing firm in what he knew he needed to do, oblivious of physical demands

He loudly proclaimed his message of doom to all those that would hear

Obviously ignoring to the snickers and rude comments of the passers-by

Unable to understand why his message did not find fertile soil

The stain on his trousers spoke louder.

 

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