(Poem 349 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Between the covers
so many worlds
unfold into beautiful
realities where she
can be anything or
anyone or nothing
but a concept
or a rhythm
or a sound
that inflates the silence
with pulsating
life on the verge
of one final breath
before the universe flings
itself into new voids
so she can invent
something new.
@Home Studio – 349th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Book Girl photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 345 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
I was reading a Mary Oliver
poem, as I tend to do
and the theme was birdsong,
as her poems tend to be,
and I was transported—
looking out the open window
of my grandson’s room
when he lived with me
as a baby,
our routine as simple
as one, two, three,
me holding him
him looking at me,
waiting for my imitation
of the bird call of the morning.
I was quite impressed
with my mimicry,
as was he.
The bird would sing to us
and we would respond.
If I took too long,
my grandson would grunt
to hurry me up.
A proper reply must
be whistled off, woman.
I’d forgotten that I learned
three different bird calls
during our shelter-in-place
COVID season,
probably the accomplishment
I’m secretly most proud of,
even though I also got
my Master’s degree,
fostered my grandchildren,
taught remotely,
rescued an elderly cat,
and survived.
But those morning
conversations between
the birds, my grandson,
and me—
@Home Studio – 345th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Bird Calls 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 341 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Gifts and necessities
fill every inch of the car
blending possessions
one step in the process
that is part and parcel of
two lives becoming one
from Texas to Canada
Michigan in between
mother’s heart rests easy
when she sees her boy
turned man open the car
door for his wife
and drive away
to start his new life
@Home Studio – 341st poem of the year
Runner ups for the Car Jenga photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 338 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“Going to the chapel
and you’re gonna get married.”
Today’s the day you say your vows,
agree to disagree for many years to come.
Family and friends look on with joy and tears,
so thankful to have gained a daughter or a son.
Our hearts are full as we celebrate your sweet union,
hopeful that this is the beginning of a lifetime of love.
@Home Studio – 338th poem of the year
More Wedding Day photos to accompany my poem:
Julian as ring bearer security. Mackenzie and Charlotte as flower girls.
(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 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:
rebekahjmarshall 