(Poem 131 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My granddaughter left a gift
of lavender bath salts for me
on my desk with a sweet little
message written in half cursive
half print on a sticky note.
She left one for her DāDā,
and probably everyone else
in the house as well, because
she loves to leave treats for
others when she finds a way.
I am glad my prickly, lovely,
argumentative, emotional,
explosive, beautiful, forgetful
girl has a heart full of love.
@Home Studio – 131st poem of the year
(Poem 130 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“Vengeance is mine,” sayeth Ceasar, until his
apemanity kicks in and he is able to be better
than human and allow mercy to unfold naturally.
Who gets to determine the value of a life on
this rock hurtling through space we call home?
Does intellect trump simple existence or one
form of communication imply worth over another?
Is birdsong less a language than human speech
or an elephant’s rumble less valid than words?
Someone I know once said their life would not
be affected by animals going extinct and it
made me sad because I believe the tiny pieces
of our humanity that perish with each species
we forget to save hasten our own souls’ decay.
@Home Studio (after watching War for the Planet of the Apes at Greg’s house with Greg and his family, Debbie, and Celinda on 5/18/24) – 130th poem of the year
Matt Reeves et al., War for the Planet of the Apes. Los Angeles, CA, 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2017.
Runner ups for the War of Apes photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 124 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Anyone who has ever parented a surly teen or
held a baby and felt their entire dependence as
your responsibility can relate to the poignant family
dynamic scenes in Rise of the Planet of the Apes.
Caesar’s coming of age trauma hurts us mothers
and fathers because we watch our own babies
suffer the slings and arrows of this world unprotected.
No matter our desire to rescue them from the pain
of growth, the journey is theirs and theirs alone.
If only the world could be a softer place for our
children, but alas, we must limp along and support
each other, for “alone…weak. Together…strong.”
@The Writing Barn: Buddha Hall (after watching Rise of the Planet of the Apes at Greg’s house with Greg and his family, Debbie, Celinda, and David on 5/4/24) – 124th poem of the year
Rupert Wyatt, et al., Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Beverly Hills, CA, 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2011.
(Poem 123 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My sister bought a box
of butterflies to release in
honor of Mema’s birthday.
We gathered, all five
generations of us, and
watched in awe as they
emerged from their sleepy
coldness to warm to the
overcast heat of a May day.
Each butterfly took its own
time exploring this new
brightness of air and space,
flitting from tiny human to
big human to ground to
metal rooftop and beyond.
The last Painted Lady
dilly-dallied and decided
to rest a while on a potted
plant on Mema’s porch.
None of us really knew
what to expect and were
pleasantly surprised at the
loveliness of the little
creatures Mema loved so.
@The Writing Barn: Buddha Hall (in honor of Mema’s birthday that was on May 2nd and the butterfly release that was on May 4th. She would have been 89.) – 123rd poem of the year
(Poem 116 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
70 is the new 50.
Bike, climb, hike, romance;
the world is your oyster,
the sky the limit.
You can smell the roses
and shoot for the moon,
throw your hat in the ring
and take the bull by the horns.
So, bite the bullet,
but don’t break a leg
because the ball’s in your court,
and it’s time to sing your own praises.
You make your own destiny,
for nothing is set in stone.
Since all bets are off,
pull out all the stops,
make a castle in the sky,
and do everything on your bucket list.
@Home Studio – 116th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Granny Fun photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 110 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Matilda was dealt an awful hand,
the most neglectful parents in all the land.
When finally caught by the powers that be,
she went to school, which filled her with glee.
Sad to say, the school was the worst,
run by a tyrant who believed kids were cursed.
Poor Matilda was viewed as an evil child,
so she made up stories that were truly wild.
A librarian was her biggest fan,
who encouraged her to take a stand.
Then her teacher Ms. Honey cheered her on,
and eventually all the threats were gone.
Now Matilda has a family and friends,
a happy school, and love that never ends.
She even has a house and a yard,
so she can continue her role as a bard.
@Home Studio – (after watching the musical Matilda with Debbie and Celinda) 110th poem of the year
Warchus, Matthew, director. Roald Dahl’s Matilda the Musical film. TriStar Pictures, 2022.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Powerful Dragons
Dragons with Kittens
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
(Poem 109 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My baby is a vampire,
adorable and sweet.
Teeth sharp as razors,
slice easily through meat.
He gets a little cranky
if he’s late for his nap,
which is very dangerous,
and can lead to a mishap.
So, I keep him on a schedule
with his snacks and sleep;
thanks to my diligence,
he rarely makes a peep.
He loves to snuggle,
but be careful of his bite,
and stay away from windows
due to harsh sunlight.
I’m not exactly sure
how this happened to my child,
but it might be because
his dad’s a little wild.
Whatever the case,
if you put my love to the test,
I’ll tell you loud and clear
that my baby is the best.
@Home Studio – 109th poem of the year
Runner ups for the vampire baby photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 