Document (an acrostic poem)

Image: fjwp.s3.amazonaws.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/23085906/contract.png

Didn’t read the fine print of the contract

Of course that’s how a lot of these stories start

Catch 22’s galore in the legalese that no one can decipher

Unless you are a lawyer, and even then you have to be speak a dialect of Parseltongue

Making the rest of the tale about maneuvering out of the inevitable

Enabling our hero to have the last laugh

Now only if that worked in real life

Then I would be so done with these student loans

Hygge (an acrostic poem)

Image: cdn.hswstatic.com/gif/hygge.jpg

Hearth is happily crackling, telling a tale of mirth

Yielding a soft warm glow into the room

Gifting a cozy sense of calm and comfort

Grafting the coming season to your soul

Entombing negative feelings for another time, another place

Tasty (an acrostic poem)

The aromas of honey and age greeted Kendra’s nostrils

As she opened it up and inhaled deeply

Salivating a bit she smiled and tried to take it all in

The flavors danced and spun such a complex tale

You never knew how good the story would be in an old book

 

Image: d2v9y0dukr6mq2.cloudfront.net/video/thumbnail/SFp1bALngj0sessj8/videoblocks-closeup-of-black-womans-mouth-with-bright-blue-lipstick-smiling-and-showing-language_bomooipvq7_thumbnail-full01.png

Listen Carefully (a 100 word story)

The conversation around the bonfire grew quiet as Ludwig stepped into the circle.  The campers scooted back a bit in anticipation to what was about to happen.

Ludwig rubbed his hands together and then began to sign his tale of terror.  Some averted their eyes, not wanting to hear about the horrors, but others stared with rapt attention.

Soon Ludwig concluded his tale of woe and the hands of his audience waved back and forth in appreciation, even the monster that was hiding in the tree line.  Tonight he would go hungry, because it was that good of a story.

 

Image:  cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2017/08/06/15/53/fire-2593636_960_720.jpg

Melting (an acrostic poem)

Most people called her a witch, and she was worse than that

Everything was about her, and her “sisters”

Lording it over all those around them

To think that Gale girl had dropped in like a load of bricks

It had destroyed everything they had built

Now she had to admit Gale had good taste in shoes

Getting them might be a tale for the ages

 

Image: thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/old-wooden-wash-bucket-isolated-27078429.jpg