I like the rules of acrostics. They seem to be freeing me somehow to come up with creative imagery.
Like flower petals falling from skies
Edged with knife-cold
The flakes congregate
In silent assemblies.
They
Settle into mounds of
New, bleached quilt
Over hills of slumbering ground.
Whispers of wintertime.
What do you think? Feel free to share your own winter acrostic poetry in your comment!
Nice. Kind of reminds me of THE SNOWSTORM by Ralph Waldo Emerson.
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