Tag Archives: Poetry

Poetry, Writing

I am happy and in love

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(Poem 51 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/OTT53x

I am happy and in love with my partner.

Choosing to love is not easy when he
forgets to put his towel in the hamper,
leaves a greasy cast iron skillet on the stove,
lets the rain destroy my box of mementos,
or flings open the door startling me again.

Falling in love happens effortlessly when he
brags about me in front of his friends,
asks how he can support me as I grieve,
holds me close and lets me cry until I’m spent,
and makes time to play with our grandchildren.

Remembering to love is not simple when he
refuses to argue/walks away from my anger,
chews too loudly while leaving crumbs,
forgets what I’ve told him and blames me,
or acts irritated when asked to clean.

Being in love is a piece of cake when he
takes me to coffee shops to write and sip tea,
laughs unabashedly at TikToks with me,
says I’m smart and shows he values my ideas,
and is a good sport with my giant family.

I am happy and in love with my partner.

@Home Studio – 51st poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI hands (which AI really struggles with for some reason, so these are really funny) photos to accompany my poem:

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

Health, Poetry, Writing

I feel comfortable in my own skin

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(Poem 49 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I feel comfortable in my own skin
and when I’m not, like when the sky
is inside me and I am surrounding the
sun and moon, or when the ocean is me
and the wind is my lover holding open the
door to a terrace overlooking the most beautiful
view of wrinkled valleys and snow-white mountains
freckled with the tiniest starry pinpoints of perfection.

@Home Studio – 49th 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

Health, Poetry, Writing

Lesson 11 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 45 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“You are your own alchemist, constantly transmuting dull, lifeless molecules into the living embodiment of yourself.” Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/An9prh

Constant flux and empty space
are the stuff of solidity of which
we are made and insist are real.
Whereas, the cloud of energy,
shadow and light, layers of love
around a timeless soul core are
supposedly fantasy imaginings.
Whose version of truth gains
most traction has less to do with
rightness and more to do with
convenience, since substantial
introspection is hard and surface
knowledge is easier to tolerate.
Turning yourself into gold is an
alchemy most are unwilling to
pursue, and would rather label
distasteful or nonsensical than
undertake an inconceivable quest.

@Home Studio – 45th 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.80-84.

Runner ups for the AI alchemy photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

I am living a vibrant spiritual life

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(Poem 44 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I am living a vibrant spiritual life,
full of love and joy, peace and calm.
The paraphernalia of ritual surrounds
me in my cave of books and comfort.
An open door invites a breeze as
animals saunter in and out on a whim.
We check on each other through
thought and glance, caress and scent.
Fanciful shadows from candlelight
play with the eye of an owl who
nestles against his own moon.
Time slips through my hourglass,
but I don’t mind because this moment
is eternally engrained in the white sand.

@Home Studio – 44th poem of the year

Runner ups for the owl moon photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

I am at peace with myself and those I love

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(Poem 43 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I am at peace with myself and those I love.
No animosity hangs stale in the air,
nor anger brews and steeps in silence.
I have forgiven and released, at least for now,
resentments or regrets I may have nursed.
Prayers of blessing, for protection, of thanks
abound this morning as I start my day.
If I steer clear of them, this love I feel, so pure,
so genuine, might last until lunch time.

@Home Studio – 43rd poem of the year

Runner ups for the at peace with those I love photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

The Opposite of Inspired

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(Poem 42 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/V8WAgh

The opposite of inspired,
whatever is not soul-stirred,
you know the feeling when
you see a piece of art
that makes you stop and stare?
Or you hear a piece of music
that brings tears to your eyes?
That is not what I am feeling right now.
Or, you know the way catching a glimpse
of your crush across the way can make
your heart skip a beat?
Or how holding a baby or petting a cat
can soothe old hurts?
Nope, I’m not feeling those either,
of that, I am sure.
This is more akin to boredom
tinged with ennui,
maybe resignation
with a hint of melancholy
and a dash of malaise
thrown in for good measure.

@Genuine Joe’s – 42nd poem of the year

Runner ups for the melancholy red head photos to accompany my poem: