Tag Archives: Health

Poetry, Writing

Toad Stool

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(Poem 87 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/gegjFn

Toads have their stools
Lions have their manes
Kings have their trumpets
They all love the rains

Jiminy have their crickets
Puffs have their balls
Hogs have their hedges
They’re cute as baby dolls

Buttons have their shirts
Oysters have their shells
Beeches have their waves
They’re in all witches’ spells

Blushers have their crushes
Chickens have their woods
Fairies have their rings
They grow in all the hoods

Dryad’s have their saddles
Jew’s have their ears
Caps have their inks
They play on all our fears

Georges have their saints
Deer have their shields
Oxen have their tongues
They give life to our fields

@Home Studio – 87th poem of the year

Fiction, Health, Poetry, Writing

Hobbit Hole

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(Poem 83 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/IqifFz

Someday I’ll live in a hobbit hole
and grow mushrooms and sweet mint.
I’ll stoke a small fire to cut the chill
and steep cinnamon for a cozy scent.

First thing in the morning, I’ll sip my tea,
while I watch the sunrise in peace.
Then at 10:02, I’ll water the plants,
before hand-feeding the bunnies and geese.

By then it’ll be time for second breakfast—
berries and cream in a bowl.
Then I’ll probably need to take a nap
because that’s life in a hobbit hole.

@Home Studio – 83rd poem of the year

Runner ups for the Hobbit hole photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

Pondering Woman

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(Poem 82 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/jPrvHv

Shall I build a spire atop my roof
and invite the townspeople to a
grand ball with a string quartet?
Or shall I plant a rose garden
hedged in by topiaries and pebble
paths bordered by flower beds?
Or shall I plan a high tea with
clotted cream, scones, and jam,
cucumber sandwiches all around?
If it’s a rainy day, should I pass
the time by taking an afternoon
lover and lounge on satin cushions?
If I’m feeling melancholy, shall I
read a book of poems by candlelight
and cry luxuriously at the romance?
Once I pay bills and file my taxes,
get my oil changed and check the mail,
grocery shop and gas up the car,
shall I start on my new to do list?
Yes, I think I shall.

@Home Studio – 82nd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

The Tree that Holds up the Moon

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(Poem 77 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/a1SThn

The tree that holds up the moon
had to be reinforced last month.
A branch broke and the light of night
nearly came tumbling down to earth.
We wept and prayed, wished we
had thought of something sooner.
Then the women gathered their
tools and began the tedious work
of stitching the bark strong where
the wound remained from the
gaping hole the bough left when
she fell away and broke our hearts.  

@Home Studio – 77th poem of the year

Runner ups for the tree moon photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Sweet Inspiration

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(Poem 76 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/FJuDC4

Sweet inspiration flows inward,
filling every cell and synapse with
translucent nectar that branches
into spirals of peaceful fragrance.
There are notes of earth and rain,
warm melons sitting ripe in a field,
flower petals lingering long after
being wilted by the moon’s tears,
golden bread fresh from the oven,
and the vellichor of parchment.

@Home Studio – 76th poem of the year

Runner ups for the inspiration photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

Lesson 12 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 75 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Wisdom is alive and therefore always unpredictable.” -Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/dVT3Jv

We must learn to contain
both chaos and order,
swirling atoms, firing neurons,
never ceasing electrical storms
matched only by coherent thought
and organized cellular function.
A rose in seed form looks the
same as a bean or a violet.
Only invisible twisted twin strands
delineate its inevitable destiny.
Yet, we worry about becoming,
spend struggle and effort to
assert our determined uniqueness.
Why not surrender to fate?
A rose by any other name
(and all that) is a universal truth.
When pressures push this way
and other, we try to impose order.
Yet, attempts at control run
counter to the grain of life.
Learn to accept the unpredictable,
make peace with entropy,
embrace all potentials, so the
opportune impulses can flood
like inspiration into life, and the
bud naturally unfold into a rose.

@Home Studio – 75th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 85-89.

Runner ups for the rose bud photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

Sleep is My Favorite Activity

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(Poem 73 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/GCc85W

Sleep is my favorite activity.
I think it always has been.
It’s just a little harder now
to reach the perfect bliss.
When I was young and firm,
sleep came easy, just dripped
like candle wax on my pillow.
Now I need my cpap machine,
a supersonic fan on blast,
the right kind of darkness
that blocks out memory,
the right kind of quiet
that sets the stage for dreams,
the perfect temperature set,
all my pillows plumped just so,
my grounding sheets tucked,
and my husband by my side.

@Home Studio – 73rd poem of the year

Health, Poetry, Writing

Good Morning

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(Poem 69 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/gEjF5X

Good morning leaves decaying in layers in our little yard forest. You have carpeted the ground beautifully with your life donation. Each of your sacrifices is appreciated, honored, and revered by many paws padding over your graves. Good morning birds singing to the gallery of the gods. You cheer the space where silence was lonely and fill the trees with invisible color. Good morning cool breeze gently swaying the boughs. Waving, nodding, welcoming all of us to your open-air cathedral, we are in awe of your generosity. Good morning ghost white sky. I suppose you don’t feel cornflower blue right now, and that is okay. You are lovely just as you are and have every right to express yourself however you like. Good morning big red barn with peeling paint. Your strength and shelter have protected many generations. You have been a foundation upon which lives were built. Good morning wood pile. What a lovely stack you’ve made of yourself, artistically skewed like an artisanal centerpiece for the yard.

@Home Studio – 69th poem of the year

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

Law & Order: SVU

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(Poem 68 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/1AQSkHQq8cYWGWkw5

Crimes against the most
vulnerable in society
often go unreported,
unsolved, left in the dark
where they were committed.
Shows about the people
who work tirelessly to
defend the weak and
catch the perpetrators
of evil provide comfort.
Each episode should probably
elicit fear, shed light on
terrors I never even thought
of before, keep me up at night,
but instead, something about
the procedural repetition of
violence, discovery,
investigation, interrogation,  
Stabler wrestles with demons,
Benson saves the day,
the criminal goes to jail,
and I can fall right to sleep.

@Home Studio – 68th poem of the year