Tag Archives: poems

Health, Poetry, Writing

Contentment

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(Poem 96 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/JXk1Un

Contentment is pajamas
and a fan blowing straight
on my bare shoulders,
flickering candlelight,
endless streaming of my
favorite shows as long as
I feel like watching them,
sweet tea, lines of poetry,
a chapter of a good novel,
a cool spring breeze that
rustles the tranquil curtains,
salt and pepper kettle chips,
the clickity clack of my
keyboard when my fingers
know what they want to type,
my husband hobbying a
few feet away from me,
the dogs playing outside,
the cats sleeping nearby,
my kids and grandkids off
doing their own things,
and the complete absence
of pain or discomfort.

@Home Studio – 96th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Contentment photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

Pondering Woman

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(Poem 82 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

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

Poetry, Writing

I am a woman of integrity

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(Poem 50 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I am a woman of integrity.
What you see is what you get—
the whole package wrapped up
in flaws, sewn together with
duct tape and staple-shaped
scars but built to endure adversity.
My O-rings maintain elasticity
no matter the cold they endure,
resilience practically my middle
name, so fire away and prepare
to launch; what could go wrong?

@Home Studio – 50th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

I Lotioned Your Feet

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(Poem 48 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

My Mema passed away this morning. I had the privilege of spending 50 years in her presence. I will miss her something fierce. She has a husband she was married to for over 70 years, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren, not to mention every other possible connection to people far and wide.

Mema and Grandad

I lotioned your feet, then hands
with white jasmine-scented
Bath & Body Works Miriam gave me
and tucked you in the way you like,
brushed your hair and read you your texts,
then some Bible verses of comfort—
Isaiah 40, the first one that surfaced.

The steady sounds of the ICU create
a strangely soothing white noise as a
backdrop to your labored breaths.
Lydia is here again to hold your hand
just one more time; one of many
one more times over the last few days
because each time could be the last.

The you I know is no longer here,
but the shell remains and deserves
gentle petting and reassurance.
Goodness knows how many times
you had to ‘there, there’ me in the last
50 years, buoying my spirits and righting
my sails with your steady faith and calm.

Boaz sat vigil until I arrived, and your
children and husband will take over after
I leave — we are all branches of a grand
candelabra you have lit with exuberance,
spreading across states and time, thankful to
have been influenced by the life you lived
and the love which from your cup overflowed.

@ICU Room 1 St. David’s Round Rock Hospital & Home Studio – 48th poem of the year

Health, Poetry, Writing

I live in a climate that I love

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(Poem 47 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/OiaqP6

I live in a climate that I love
with cool breezes reminding
me to wear a sweater while
sitting outside on my porch.
The seasons announce themselves
proudly with soft snowfalls,
flower festivals, sunshine,
and hillsides covered in amber.
No longer do I dread the
pain of a Texas summer
with solar flare-esque heat
and drought dry days of
endless monotony painted
dull brown and lifeless.
I wake up each morning
breathing in air free of
hayseed allergens and
cedar pollen intent on
murder and mayhem.
Only fresh scents of flowers
blooming in our garden
next to cilantro, green onion,
and mint call out to me.
And the evening fires
we light (because their
crackle is the perfect
juxtaposition to the crisp
night air) are the right
way to end the day
and toast the sweetness
of this blessed life.

Rebekah Marshall @ – 47th poem of the year

Health, Poetry, Writing

I Live in a Village

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(Poem 46 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/elYkSk and
https://gencraft.ai/p/NEDudz

I live in a village
with supportive women
surrounding me
and I am loved.
A miniature donkey
greets me like
a doting dog
begging for treats,
and a chicken
follows me everywhere
I go because she
loves sitting in my
lap while I write.
As a child, I never
longed for this life;
it just happened
when I was busy
doing the business
of being my best
self and nurturing
the guests who
show up in need
of a crust of bread
and a cool glass of
water on their
journey home.

@Home Studio – 46th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Lone Commuter

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(Poem 40 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

You make me so angry.
Then you want to go on
with conversation as if nothing
has tilted my axis, forever
altering my perception of you.
I am not designed as others.
Once you lose my respect,
it is difficult to gain it back.
Refusal to explain when
confronted seems to be
your protective measure
to maintain privacy, dignity?
I am man, I owe nothing to
no one, hear me roar,
but to me it is weakness,
denying vulnerability,
insisting others accept
your reality without a hint
of clarification for those of
us whose realities include
other humans in community.
How strange to be a lone
commuter on this subway of
life without a care for
anyone else.

@Genuine Joe’s – 40th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

May the Lord Listen to Your Prayers

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(To the mediocre musician. On the guitar. A Psalm of Rebekah.)

(Poem 38 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

May the Lord listen to your prayers;
may you feel blessed to be alive.

May you never have to wait too long
for packages you ordered to arrive.

May your coffee stay hot ‘til the last drop,
and your Wi-fi connection be strong.  

May your wait-times be short when you’re on hold
and your days off feel pleasantly long.

May the dogs come when you call
and never escape through the fence.

May your children behave out in public
and your dishes be easy to rinse.

May your bills get paid on time in full
and your credit score be high.

May you look at the person you’re in love with
and never wonder why.

May your shows renew and stream with ease;
may no spoilers give away the end.

May you have the best time filming yourself,
taking part in the latest trend.

May the book you’re reading have a sequel,
and you win the game you play.

May your friends all want to come to your gig,
and you have a lovely day.

For simple are the joys that comfort our hearts
when chaos is all around.

And plenty of thanks is our if we notice
the blessings that abound.

(Inspired by reading the Psalms of the Bible) – 38th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

I Set You Up, Poor Cotton Eye’d Joe

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(Poem 37 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I set you up, poor
Cotton Eye’d Joe;
curiosity killed my curio.
The young dog
you barely knew,
of course startled
your eyes of blue.
Away you flew
like a wounded dove
shattering branches
of porcelain trees
in your fearful flight
to safety.

@Home Studio – 37th poem of the year

Health, Poetry, Writing

Lesson 8 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 36 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“If titanic forces like gravity and the immense energies that fuel stars manage to coexist without destroying one another, then your own life will be upheld…you are a privileged child of the universe, entirely safe, entirely supported, entirely loved.” -Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/4a2Bo0

Love is often a response to being loved,
as unconditional love happens most when
no conditions have been prescribed.
The only way to truly love another,
is to first love the self that feels unworthy.
The layers of fear that encrust the heart
must be chipped away by a feather touch.
A seeker seeks love like a fish looks for water,
unaware that it pervades and surrounds,
is, was, and will be source and sustenance.

@Home Studio – 36th 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.57-63.