Cocktails (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t figure out which flavor of Daquiri she wanted

Of course there was the Classic Martini, or one of a hundred permutations

Can’t forget the Old Fashioned, but she thought she wanted something newer

Kicking back a Whiskey Sour might put a nice pucker on her lips

Though maybe some bubbles with a Moscow Mule

Ah, or going tropical and hit up a Mai Tai

If not perhaps a Sloe Gin Fizz would hit the nostalgic spot, but not tonight

Leading her to decide on a Rum and Coke since sometimes simple is better

She was sad when her drink disappeared after she misplaced it moments later.

Shell (an acrostic poem)

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Silicon beds abound with bivalves

Hidden under a blanket of warm tropical water

Every wave akin to a gentle breeze that brings savory delights

Letting the colony feast on the bounty of the surrounding sea

Life might suck, but for an ocean filter, that means you are living large!

Kiwi (an acrostic poem)

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Keeping with the weird down under thing

In comes a fruit with hair that tastes kind of like a strawberry with a tropical twist

With a skin that could use a bit of a shave, while that isn’t too freaky

It was the fact you can eat the hairy part that made me shudder

Banana (an acrostic poem)

 

Be tropical, my friends, and call on Saint Belafonte

Allow me to give you a hand with your breakfast to go

Now I know you find me appealing

Ah, but I can be slippery when I’m underfoot

Now come, Mr. Tallyman

And tally me, ‘cause daylight come and I want to go home

 

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