Prompt: Baptized in muddy water, cleansed and free,
A rebirth in nature's own baptistry.
The river's current, a baptismal rite,
Washing away darkness, bringing forth light.
Sins are washed away, in the muddy flow,
A fresh beginning, a brand-new show.
Emerging from the waters, renewed and pure,
A soul reborn, with a faith so sure.
Muddy water, a symbol of life's trials,
A cleansing ritual, that never fails.
A spiritual journey, a sacred rite,
Baptized in muddy water, a soul takes flight.
Prompt: In Loveland, Ohio, the tale is told,
Of frogmen lurking in the cold.
With webbed feet and glowing eyes,
They're said to haunt beneath moonlit skies.
From the banks of the Little Miami River,
They emerge with a stealthy quiver.
Sightings rare, but stories spread,
Of creatures green with skin so slick, it's said.
Some claim they're aliens, others a hoax,
But those who've seen them share their folks.
With scales and tails, and croaking cries,
The Loveland frogmen, a mystery lies.
Legends echo through the town,
Of frogmen wearing crowns,
Of their watery lair, so unknown,
In Loveland, Ohio, a tale to be shown.
So keep your eyes peeled, when shadows fall,
As darkness comes and moonlight calls.
For in Loveland, by the river's bend,
The legend lives on, of the frogmen.
Prompt: In caverns deep, with walls of stone,
A Cyclops dwelt, all on his own.
A giant fierce, with eye so bright,
A single orb that shone with might.
His size immense, his strength unmatched,
A creature feared, whose rage dispatched.
His voice would boom, across the land,
His footsteps shook, like quakes so grand.
Yet lonely he, in solitude,
A being shunned, by multitudes.
His monstrous form, a sight so dire,
His heart consumed by smoldering ire.
Until one day, a hero came,
Odysseus was his famed name.
With cunning wit and silver tongue,
He sought to outsmart the Cyclops young.
With crafty ruse and clever plan,
He called himself "Nobody," the man.
He blinded Polyphemus, the Cyclops' eye,
And escaped his cave, before he could die.
The Cyclops roared, in anguish deep,
His blindness causing pain so steep.
But Odysseus sailed, with victory won,
His tale of cunning, forever spun.
So let us remember, the Cyclops' plight,
A monster fierce, with blinding sight.
A lesson learned, of pride and wrath,
And how a hero's wit can change the path.
Prompt: A creature of grace, both man and horse,
A being unique, a mythical force.
With human torso, and equine rear,
The Centaur roams, without a fear.
A symbol of strength, both brawn and mind,
A creature of balance, of a rare kind.
With hooves that thunder, with arrows true,
The Centaur's prowess, a wondrous view.
With wisdom old, and skills of war,
The Centaur stands, a leader to adore.
A creature proud, with honor high,
A being born to reach the sky.
But also gentle, a healer's touch,
A creature kind, with a heart so much.
With loyalty strong, to those they trust,
The Centaur's presence, a gift so just.
So hail the Centaur, a creature rare,
A being of myth, beyond compare.
A symbol of strength, of grace and might,
The Centaur's legacy, a timeless sight.
Prompt: The Harpy's wings were dark and wide,
With feathers sharp and beady-eyed.
She soared above with eerie grace,
A creature feared in every place.
Her talons sharp, her beak a hook,
Her scream would make the bravest shook.
She swept down low with ruthless speed,
Her prey, she'd catch with vicious greed.
Her form was part bird, part human too,
A monstrous sight, a fearsome view.
Her hunger drove her endless flight,
A creature born of ancient fright.
But deep within her heart did lie,
A glimmer of a human sigh.
A lonely soul trapped in her form,
Forever cursed by darkest storm.
So, beware the Harpy's wrathful might,
And pray you never face her sight.
For she is both a monster and a soul,
A creature cursed, beyond control.
Prompt: Every breath you take, I feel,
A love so strong, it's truly real,
Each beat of your heart, a rhythm true,
A melody that brings me close to you.
Your presence lingers in the air,
A scent, a touch, beyond compare,
Your voice, a symphony to my ear,
A harmony that draws me near.
Every breath you take, a treasure bright,
A gift of love, a guiding light,
A bond that's formed, an unbreakable tie,
A love that fills me, sky high.
So hold me close, don't let me go,
For in your arms, my heart's aglow,
With every breath you take, my love,
You're all I need, my treasure trove.
Prompt: Morpheus, god of dreams, mysterious and wise,
With power to shape our slumbering skies.
A weaver of visions, both strange and surreal,
You bring to life dreams that often conceal.
With forms shifting, elusive and bright,
You paint our minds with wonders of the night.
From fleeting fantasies to visions profound,
You whisper stories in sleep's quiet sound.
A master of illusions, a dreamer's guide,
You visit us in sleep, where secrets hide.
With wings of darkness and a watchful eye,
You shape our dreams, as they dance and fly.
Morpheus, god of dreams, a celestial art,
Your realm is boundless, your touch a work of heart.
In the realm of slumber, your power reigns,
Where reality and imagination blend in chains.
Thetis the Sea Goddess and Mother of Achilles Poem
Model:
Artistic
Size:
896 X 704
(0.63 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: Thetis, sea goddess of ancient lore,
A mother's love forevermore.
With silver scales and flowing hair,
Her beauty shines beyond compare.
Protector of her mighty son,
Achilles, famed for battles won.
Thetis' love, both fierce and true,
Her devotion, strong and through.
She dipped him in the Styx, so bold,
Made him invulnerable, the stories told.
But the heel she held, a fateful part,
His only weakness, his mortal heart.
Thetis, with her watery domain,
A goddess feared and yet so vain.
Her power vast, her heart so deep,
A mother's love, forever to keep.
A goddess of the sea, so grand,
Her love for Achilles, a timeless stand.
Her name revered in tales of old,
A mother's love, a story told.
Prompt: Epimetheus, Titan wise,
Brother to Prometheus' daring guise,
God of afterthought, so keen,
Who pondered ere the act, serene.
With foresight, Prometheus did scheme,
While Epimetheus, lost in dream,
Forgot to plan, forgot to see,
The consequences that would be.
Yet in his folly, he did learn,
The value of foresight's stern concern,
For hindsight's wisdom, earned through pain,
Would guide him not to err again.
Epimetheus, Titan fair,
Who learned through hindsight's watchful stare,
To think ahead, to ponder well,
And never in regret to dwell.
Prompt: In a field so lush, where the sun shines bright,
There's a banana farmer, with pure delight.
With soil and sweat, he tills the land,
A farmer's labor, so truly grand.
He plants the seeds, with care and grace,
Nurturing the soil, in the perfect place.
He tends the crop, as it grows tall,
With patience and skill, he tends them all.
He shields them from the harsh sun's rays,
And shelters them from stormy days.
He watches them flower, and bear fruit sweet,
A farmer's pride, a wondrous feat.
He harvests the bananas, one by one,
With a sense of satisfaction, a job well done.
He fills his baskets, with nature's gold,
A treasure to behold, a story to be told.
From the farm to the market, his bananas go,
A labor of love, a livelihood to show.
Providing nourishment, to those in need,
A farmer's work, a noble deed.
Through sweat and toil, he perseveres,
Year after year, through hopes and fears.
For the love of the land, and the fruit it yields,
The banana farmer, with nature's fields.
Prompt: At the end of the train, with a cheerful hue,
There's a special car, called the caboose, it's true.
A rolling office, a cozy space,
A symbol of railroads, a familiar place.
With windows all around, a panoramic view,
The caboose offers a vantage point, through and through.
A lookout perch, for the train's rear guard,
A watchful eye, always on guard.
Inside, a haven, for the crew to stay,
With beds and tables, for work and play.
A refuge from the elements, a shelter on wheels,
A home away from home, with comfort feels.
With a stove to keep warm, and a lantern's light,
The caboose provides warmth, throughout the night.
A place for meals, and stories shared,
A camaraderie, that can't be compared.
The caboose, a symbol, of railway lore,
A piece of history, treasured evermore.
A reminder of the past, a link to the past,
A nostalgic sight, that will forever last.
Though modern trains now run, without a caboose,
The memories remain, of this unique use.
A cherished icon, in the railroad's tale,
The caboose, a legend, that will never fail.
Prompt: Lord, my heart is heavy with praise,
As I lift my voice to you in prayer.
I feel your presence in every phase,
And your love is beyond compare.
I thank you for your grace and mercy,
For your sacrifice on the cross.
You have given me a life that's worthy,
And you have paid for all my loss.
Your forgiveness washes away my sin,
And your peace fills my troubled soul.
You guide me through each day I'm in,
And your love makes me whole.
In all my trials and all my strife,
You are the one constant in my life.
I know that you are always there,
And your love is more than I can bear.
So I'll sing your praises day and night,
And my heart will forever take flight.
For you are the God of love and light,
And in you, I find my delight. Amen.
Prompt: The morning sun rose with a crimson hue,
As the townsfolk gathered, their hearts askew,
To witness a sight that made them shiver,
For today was the day of the dreaded Executioner.
He stood tall with a stoic air,
His face obscured by a mask of despair,
Clad in black from head to toe,
A symbol of terror wherever he'd go.
His blade, sharp and gleaming bright,
Reflecting the harshness of morning light,
A tool of death, a weapon so cruel,
Used to enforce the law, as an executioner's tool.
He walked with purpose, a somber pace,
No expression on his obscured face,
With every step, the crowd drew near,
Eyes filled with dread, hearts filled with fear.
The convicted stood, their fate sealed,
Awaiting their doom, their final yield,
For crimes committed, justice demanded,
The Executioner's hand steady and firm, not remanded.
One by one, they faced their fate,
As the Executioner swung, their lives abate,
The crowd gasped, as heads rolled down,
In the name of justice, a macabre crown.
But as the day wore on, a question arose,
Who was this man, this bringer of woes?
Prompt: Bocce ball, a game of skill and grace,
Played with friends in a sunny place,
With polished spheres, smooth and round,
On grass or sand, or any ground.
Throwing balls with careful aim,
Hoping for a winning claim,
Strategy, precision, finesse,
A friendly game, a playful chess.
Rolling balls with gentle touch,
Laughing, chatting, oh, so much,
Each player vying for the win,
With a competitive, yet friendly grin.
Back and forth the balls will go,
Measured steps, a rhythmic flow,
Trying to land with precision,
In the target, with decision.
Cheers erupt for a well-played throw,
High fives shared, a friendly glow,
Bocce ball, a timeless treasure,
A game of leisure, a simple pleasure.
So gather 'round, both young and old,
In sunshine warm or evenings cold,
With bocce balls and camaraderie,
A game of joy and unity.
Prompt: The Bayview window, a portal to the sea,
A framed masterpiece, a sight to decree.
A panoramic view, so vast and wide,
Where nature's beauty, can't be denied.
The waves crash, against the shore,
Seagulls swoop, with their calls, they soar.
Sunsets paint the sky, in shades of gold,
As the horizon meets, the ocean bold.
From the Bayview window, the world unfolds,
With each changing season, stories untold.
Storms may rage, with winds that blow,
But the window stands strong, through highs and lows.
It's a vantage point, a tranquil retreat,
A front-row seat, to nature's sweetest feat.
A place to dream, to ponder and reflect,
As time slows down, and worries deflect.
The Bayview window, a treasured sight,
A beacon of solace, morning and night.
A reminder of nature's wonders, so grand,
A simple window, by the bay, to stand.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
