(Poem 335 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
There’s a little Japanese village
where lanterns light up paths
that wind between neighbors’
dwellings, and rain falls
at just the right time of day,
when everyone’s ready for naps.
There’s miso soup on the stove
and soba noodles in the fridge,
tonkatsu or grilled fish for dinner,
and okayu porridge for anyone
feeling a little under the weather.
@Home Studio – 335th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Japanese Village photos to accompany my poem:
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
(Poem 47 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
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
(Poem 46 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
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
rebekahjmarshall 