All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Day of the Dead
Tag Archives: parenting
Pregnant Ballerinas
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Pregnant Ninjas
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Pregnant Fairies
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Día de Los Angelitos
(Poem 306 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/4xRxIH https://gencraft.ai/p/m4qv1D
When the gates
swing open at midnight
the children flow
from heaven with joy
and laughter, eager
to visit their loved ones—
piles of fruit, mole, peanuts
and sugar skulls, soda
and candy, toys and cocoa
cover altars graced
with their little pictures.
Music and food, prayer,
family telling stories,
honoring the dead
by remembering.
@Home Studio – 306th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Día de los Angelitos photos to accompany my poem:
As You Speak, So Shall You Be
(Poem 305 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
There once was a girl
who was very mean;
she pushed her brother
and refused to clean.
She did not feed the cat
and yelled at her dad;
she hit her mother
and broke things when mad.
One day she yelled
at a little old lady
who was sitting alone
in a spot that was shady.
The girl demanded
the woman give up the spot
because the sun was up
and she was very hot.
So the little old lady
gave up her prime seat,
but rather than thank her
or say something sweet,
the little girl screamed,
“You’re ugly and old!”
And the woman turned ‘round
with a look that was cold.
Her face transformed
to a monstrous sight,
and the mean little girl
was filled with fright.
“Your very own words,”
the scary witch said,
“now apply to you
until the day you are dead.”
The little girl gasped
and ran to her room
where she looked in a mirror
and was filled with doom.
No longer young looking,
her skin was lined;
she could hardly see,
as if she was going blind.
Her bones hurt,
and her joints ached;
her hair was white
and her hands quaked.
She climbed into bed
and fell into mourning.
For all naughty children,
let this be a warning.
@Home Studio – 305th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Little Old Girl photos to accompany my poem:
Eulogy for Aiko
(Poem 302 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Our sweet girl fell asleep
for the last time yesterday.
She was our timekeeper,
door alarm, friend, snack
stealer, companion, guard
who would play with any
trespasser, reluctant auntie
to many small animals
including kittens, a puppy,
hamsters, and a possum,
our deer chaser, pond
swimmer, pack leader,
bossy lady, fluffy fluffer,
treat eater, snow lover,
couch layer, baby protector,
Charlotte’s sister, smart girly,
whose faithful, consistent,
steady, sincere, gentle, easy-
going, curious, loyal, loving
nature made our family
a stronger pack and we
will be forever grateful
for the love she gave
so generously every day.
Aiko is survived by Kenji, Chika, Cotton Eyed Joe, and Kylo from her fur pack and was especially close to Charlotte and Julian, who were honorary members of her pack because they were children during her lifetime. Charlotte and Aiko were born the same year and grew up together.
@Home Studio – 302nd poem of the year
More Aiko Pics:
Black Cat Day
(Poem 301 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
In honor of
Black Cat Day
we allow ourselves
to be silly and play
and pounce
on snacks
watch movies
with no facts
Kiki’s Delivery Service
has a black cat
Jiji is his name
cute sarcastic brat
the Star Trek episode
with the shape shifter
she appears as a feline
with a time-travelling mister
and Edgar Allan Poe
with his creepy tale
of a cat in a wall
who sends a murderer to jail
we even brought
our black meows
as guests of honor
hiding somewhere in the house.
@Home Studio – 301st poem of the year (After having a Black Cat Day celebration at Debbie’s with Celinda.)
Runner ups for the Black Cat Day photos to accompany my poem:
Fox
(Poem 298 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Fox liked to roam
all the day long
amidst the toadstools
humming a song.
While he meandered
he’d think big thoughts,
ponder serious ideas,
untangle life’s knots.
He wondered if someday
he’d find a mate,
discover his purpose,
become something great.
The forest already
knew each answer:
he was destined for love
and to become a dancer,
an artist, a writer,
a ninja, a sensei,
a father, and a friend,
to show others the way.
He had no idea
what the future would be,
but everyone he met
could already see
that Fox was destined
to become folklore;
his influence expanding
generations and more.
@Home Studio – 298th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Fox photos to accompany my poem:
Pocket Elephant
(Poem 289 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My pocket elephant
is adorable;
I don’t leave home
without her.
She sleeps all snuggled
in her little pouch
until snack time,
when she munches
contentedly on tiny slices
of jackfruit, banana,
bamboo, and tree bark.
Sometimes, she grows
restless if I haven’t pet
her enough, or she has
the zoomies.
Then I let her roam
until she wears
herself out and wants
to climb back in
my pocket.
I pour little capfuls
of water for her to drink,
and give her back scratches
upon demand.
In turn, she loves me
and trumpets her concern
if she senses me getting
too stressed.
She’s my sweet, sweet girl,
my dearest companion,
and has my whole heart.
My only complaint
is how much she poops
and often without warning.
@Home Studio on 10/26/24 @ 10:41pm – 289th poem of the year
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