All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Aliens on Cell Phones
Tag Archives: imagination
My Pet Alligator
(Poem 118 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My pet alligator is a snuggle bug
and loves to sleep on my bed.
He’s always quick to give me a hug
and listen to the worries in my head.
He enjoys spending time reading books
and watching old movies with me.
He eats anything my mother cooks;
he’s been with me since I was three.
Someday when I have my own kids,
I’ll let him babysit in our home.
He’ll keep them from doing things he forbids
and will never let them roam.
He’ll be an important part of my life
for as long as he’s willing to stay.
He gently, lovingly calms all strife
and improves my world every day.
He is certain to give as much as receive
and prefers listening to rock and roll.
I don’t think he’ll ever want to leave
because he adores climate control.
@Home Studio – 118th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Pet Alligator photos to accompany my poem:
Pondering Woman
(Poem 82 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
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
Sunrise in a Jar
(Poem 80 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
I once caught sunrise in a jar
and was tempted to keep it,
put it on my bookshelf next to
an Asian vase and a picture of
a peacock I got off Marketplace.
I held that jar, warm as a cup
of tea, and felt the hum of
life dawning between my palms.
Regret at trapping such a being
immediately overwhelmed me,
and I unscrewed the lid lefty-
loosie until nothing hindered
egress, yet sunrise remained
in the jar as though appreciative
of a pause; so, we sat together
a little longer, sunrise and me.
Though brief, the moment was
poignant, and I am ashamed to
admit I sometimes wish I had
kept the lid screwed on tight.
@Home Studio – 80th poem of the year
Balloon Garden
(Poem 62 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
There’s a pretty little garden
in a pretty little town
where a pretty little girl
puts balloon seeds in the ground.
She waits very patiently
sitting between the rows
and waters them one by one
waiting for them to grow.
When the bulbous little globes
begin to rise and swell
she sings to each and every one
in a voice clear as a bell.
Once they’ve reached maturity
the little girl waves her goodbyes
as she watches them float away
with tears in her eyes.
@Home Studio – 62nd poem of the year
Runner ups for the balloon garden photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 