(Poem 344 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
I knitted my dino a sweater.
It took 3,459 balls of yarn.
I worked spring, summer and fall
because it’s cold in his barn.
I wanted it ready by Christmas,
so I worked all night and day.
Now he’s wearing his giant sweater
and can enjoy the snow and play.
@Home Studio – 344th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Dino Sweater photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 343 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
A reflection is merely
a light wave echo,
rebound optical rays,
boomerang spectral particles—
how fitting
that Narcissus was cursed
to fall in love
with the likeness
of himself,
a mere copy.
Had he truly
known how to love,
he might have been kind
to poor Echo,
that sad nymph
of the woods
and spared both their lives.
@Home Studio – 343rd poem of the year
Runner ups for the Reflection photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 342 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Magic hair
sends waves
through the cosmos,
a journey from
root to tip
and beyond,
then ricochets
back to the heart
of the goddess
from whence it came,
the answer
to infinite energy.
@Home Studio – 342nd poem of the year
Runner ups for the Magic Hair photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 336 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Every mother wants
the best for her baby,
pins hopes for prosperity
on the unborn future,
and wishes a better life
for her offspring
than she was afforded.
Though it hurts to imagine,
she knows the child
will have to learn lessons
that will cause pain
and will face enemies
who hope to do them harm.
And it thrills her to think
about the elated joy
her son or daughter
will experience when
moments of success
become victories,
and bubble up into
celebration.
@Home Studio – 336th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Pregnant Villains photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 335 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
There’s a little Japanese village
where lanterns light up paths
that wind between neighbors’
dwellings, and rain falls
at just the right time of day,
when everyone’s ready for naps.
There’s miso soup on the stove
and soba noodles in the fridge,
tonkatsu or grilled fish for dinner,
and okayu porridge for anyone
feeling a little under the weather.
@Home Studio – 335th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Japanese Village photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 334 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
When one door closes,
the outside is kept out,
which gives the traveler
a chance to look inward.
It is then that another
door swings wide open
revealing universal secrets
free to anyone asking
without words, looking
without eyes, finding
without even seeking.
@Home Studio – 334th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Doors photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 333 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
The beat is what
slips into the cracks
and fills every potential
with movement.
The lyrics are what
slide into awareness
and sing an unforgettable
melody effortlessly.
Then, it is only natural
to grab your partner
by the hand and wind
up dancing all night.
@Home Studio – 333rd poem of the year
Runner ups for the Dancing Robots photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 332 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/pH9ZaO https://gencraft.ai/p/JSrmnT https://gencraft.ai/p/qh1VIp
The view from a balcony
is beautiful no matter the
size of the body doing the gazing.
The heart that beats
is full of love no matter the
circumference of the hips.
The mind with ambitions
is powerful no matter the
mass of the dreamer.
The soul of the saint
is expansive no matter the
confines of human form.
@Home Studio – 332nd poem of the year
Runner ups for the Balconies photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 331 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“GOD, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the ability to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
When I’m able to sink
into silent, safe serenity,
the surrounding uncertainty
stills and settles
like stones in a bowl
that each have a place
nestled one on top
of the other.
Solid weightlessness
exists in this place
of serendipity and peace
that only arrives once
acceptance has forgotten
that change is even necessary,
and wisdom has loosened
her corset to surrender
herself to the sweet
sensation of release.
@Home Studio – 331st poem of the year
Runner ups for the Serenity photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 330 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My heart hurt with crushing disappointment
after the news of the election was released.
I felt sadness about the reality of the people
who would be affected by inhumane policies.
I have so much more to learn to be an ally
for those I love because it never occurred to me
to be afraid for my husband or granddaughter
whose skin is more melanated than mine.
Lying in bed, bemoaning the next four years,
my husband admitted to being nervous about
walking the dog the next morning because it
will be dark and racists might feel emboldened.
My breath caught to think a thought so horrible,
and realize those are the thoughts my husband
has grown up with, must live with, is burdened by,
and over half our nation is just fine with that.
@Home Studio on 12/4/24 @ 8:52pm – 330th poem of the year
rebekahjmarshall 