Tag Archives: love

Poetry, Writing

Esther

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(Poem 88 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/b0Wu4s

Hadassah’s fate was sealed by her beauty,
to become queen of the Persians and Medes.
Though Jewish blood ran through her veins,
Ahasuerus supplied all her needs.

She was put in place to save her people
from Haman, a vindictive and hateful man
who wanted to kill her entire race
with a conniving and evil master plan.

By purim’s luck, the date was set
to exterminate every Jew in the land,
but Esther’s favor with the king bought grace,
which allowed her people to take a stand.

And on that day so long ago
when soldiers attacked the Jews,
they were ready with weapons to defend themselves
thanks to the king’s brave Jewish muse.

@Home Studio – 88th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Stained Glass

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(Poem 86 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/i4nhSA

When you smile at me with genuine joy,
there’s no greater sight in the world.
It’s like an endless field of bluebonnets,
or the moment a rainbow appears in the sky.
It’s the striking outline of snow-capped mountains,
or a stained-glass window that takes your breath away.

When you laugh out loud spontaneously,
there’s no greater sound in the world.
It’s like a church choir breaking into song,
or celebration after the game-winning goal.
It’s birds calling to each other across a glade,
or the dazzling fanfare of a marching band.

When you hold me tight in your strong arms,
there’s no better feeling in the world.
It’s like warming your hands in front of a fire,
or soaking in a hot bubble bath on a cold day.
It’s hot tea and Christmas lights, a whispered prayer,
or the first sunlight after a storm, wrapped up in peace.

@Home Studio – 86th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Lonely Boat

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(Poem 84 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/2ecDkl

Is there anything lonelier
than an empty boat
in the middle of the sea?

It has lost its mate
to the wind and the waves,
who never more shall be.

No, nothing is lonelier
than an empty boat
in the middle of the sea.

Except, perhaps,
this empty room
without you and only me.

@Home Studio – 84th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Sunrise in a Jar

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(Poem 80 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

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

Poetry, Writing

Snail

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(Poem 78 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

The flame of wisdom
is held aloft by an aged
snail who carries a galaxy
on her back as she glides
through the universe
leaving a trail of stars
in her slow-moving wake.
The wax that drips forms
rings around planets and
her eyes see through
time to the essence of
reality’s lover—authenticity.
She’s best friends with
both integrity and prudence
and the enemy of hubris.
When she tires, she rests
on the banks of compassion
until her spirit is restored,
then resumes her course.
Her gravity is the perfect
balance of curiosity and
contentment, and her laughter
creates starquakes like
cosmic fireworks brilliantly
painting heaven’s expanse.

@Home Studio – 78th poem of the year

Runner ups for the snail candle photos to accompany my poem:

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:

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:

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

Cheetah and Dahlia

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(Poem 74 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

The epic battle between
cheetah and dahlia
lasted more than two moons.
No one knew who fate would
favor, though all took sides.
Spider and owl both fought
valiantly on the side of dahlia.
Scorpion and crow stood with
cheetah, as they do to this day.
Allegiances were forged,
lifelong friendships shattered;
the forest was never the same.
Some say dahlia attacked first,
jealous that cheetah was not
faithful, others say cheetah
was the original aggressor,
retaliation for a lost cub.
Whoever initiated matters not,
for the havoc and destruction
was total, the bloodshed dire.
Had serpent and beetle not
teamed up, all would have
been lost in the bloody mire.
As cheetah lay dying from
serpent’s bite, dahlia fell,
devastated by beetle’s hunger.
And to this day, there is
animosity among the animals,
where once there was union.
Such are the ways of love
and war; there are no victors.  

@Home Studio – 74th poem of the year

Runner ups for the cheetah flower photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Dragon Kitty

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(Poem 72 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

Some dragon kittens hatched
in a nest outside my window.
The mother displayed them proudly,
like she wanted to share with me
the satisfaction only one mother to
another can ever understand.
Her eyes glowed red with pride
when we locked gazes and
the silence was filled with our
shared love for our babies.

Runner ups for the dragon kitty photos to accompany my poem:

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