







All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.














(Poem 65 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Life is hard for protectors
who must bark endlessly to
deter potential enemies.
Anything could be a threat-
that leaf fluttering menacingly
toward the fence line,
the plane flying over head,
even the car passing on the
street that can’t be seen,
only heard and understood
to pose a danger to all.
It is only right that well-earned
naps take place at regular
intervals throughout the day.
How else will they manage
to continue their missions,
patrol every inch of property,
smell every conceivable
danger before it could
possibly occur, and protect
the peace with dignity?
The cat just likes to nap for
no good reason; she has not
honorably earned her sleep,
nor has she contributed in
any way to the security of
her family beyond gazing
disinterestedly at the hard
workers as they tirelessly
performed their duties.
It is a thankless job with
only contentment as reward.
@Home Studio – 65th poem of the year
(Poem 55 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“Who can find a virtuous woman? For her worth is far above rubies.” Proverbs 31:10

I provide an excellent income.
This priceless life has maintenance fees.
My husband dreams of being
a kept man, a trophy husband.
He knows I have his best interests
at heart and will provide if I can.
I find good deals on stylish threads
and am willing to roll up my sleeves.
I do the grocery shopping
with my own money, and cook
for four generations sometimes-
dark to dark are often my hours.
I buy land, cars, investments,
houses, furniture, animals,
goods (essential or frivolous),
and keep the lights on.
I am generous with my earnings,
always willing to share, ready for
winter and summer alike;
my home is a welcome oasis.
Our needs are met, as well as
many of our wants; my children
look to me for strength and
guidance as they make their paths.
My beauty is love, peace, work,
and teaching kindness through
craft – creation of story –
words strung together like pearls.
@Home Studio – 55th poem of the year
(Poem 52 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I do work that I feel confident doing.
It stretches me and can be a complicated
puzzle that feels unsolvable at times,
but I am fully cognizant of my abilities,
able to slow my pulse, take a deep breath,
and start at the very beginning because
Julie Andrews says that’s a very good
place to start, and she knows things.
Old dogs can learn new tricks, though
they might need some accommodations
to help them master the same skills.
Honestly, whomever thought to suggest
phrases like neutral face and thinking-face
when hovering above emojis not only
blessed those of us who struggle to
read faces, but those of us unaccustomed
to reading little circular yellow faces
as part of our regular workday because
we grew up with rotary phones, and
being able to metaphorically clutch my
pearls by clicking on a gasp emoji
might come in quite handy someday.
My grandmother worked in the tech
sector via telecommunications back
when switchboard operators used
call signs like Capital 5 instead of
area codes and you could call an
actual human to ask for the time of day.
She never imagined she would add
butterfly emojis as her call sign in messages
she would send to her great-great-
granddaughter someday, and I never
imagined I would be helping AI
improve her reasoning skills, but I
come from a long line of women who
know how to adapt, are not afraid of
exploring the unknown, and will learn
what we need to learn to take care of
this next generation of forward thinkers.
@Home Studio – 52nd poem of the year
(Poem 48 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My Mema passed away this morning. I had the privilege of spending 50 years in her presence. I will miss her something fierce. She has a husband she was married to for over 70 years, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren, not to mention every other possible connection to people far and wide.
I lotioned your feet, then hands
with white jasmine-scented
Bath & Body Works Miriam gave me
and tucked you in the way you like,
brushed your hair and read you your texts,
then some Bible verses of comfort—
Isaiah 40, the first one that surfaced.
The steady sounds of the ICU create
a strangely soothing white noise as a
backdrop to your labored breaths.
Lydia is here again to hold your hand
just one more time; one of many
one more times over the last few days
because each time could be the last.
The you I know is no longer here,
but the shell remains and deserves
gentle petting and reassurance.
Goodness knows how many times
you had to ‘there, there’ me in the last
50 years, buoying my spirits and righting
my sails with your steady faith and calm.
Boaz sat vigil until I arrived, and your
children and husband will take over after
I leave — we are all branches of a grand
candelabra you have lit with exuberance,
spreading across states and time, thankful to
have been influenced by the life you lived
and the love which from your cup overflowed.
@ICU Room 1 St. David’s Round Rock Hospital & Home Studio – 48th poem of the year
(Poem 43 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I am at peace with myself and those I love.
No animosity hangs stale in the air,
nor anger brews and steeps in silence.
I have forgiven and released, at least for now,
resentments or regrets I may have nursed.
Prayers of blessing, for protection, of thanks
abound this morning as I start my day.
If I steer clear of them, this love I feel, so pure,
so genuine, might last until lunch time.
@Home Studio – 43rd poem of the year
Runner ups for the at peace with those I love photos to accompany my poem:





(Poem 20 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Beauty watches Aiko (the husky) sleep.
She studies the paws positioned
in perfect running formation,
as though young again, racing at
breakneck speed faster than thought.
She notices the rise and fall of
breath and memory, dream and peace.
A double winter coat invites nestling,
and Beauty contemplates placement,
position, cause of least disturbance,
optimal geographic juxtaposition
of functional grace, busy relaxation,
dutiful nonchalance, operative indifference.
There is an art to being both beautiful
and resolute, relevant and immaterial–
a skill to pondering both nothing and
everything—and she has perfected it.
@Home Studio – Watching Aiko and Beauty together – 20th poem of the year