Which Record are You


Which Record are You

Which record are you on the turntable of life

78 45 or 331/3

Young people today are 78’s spinning faster and faster

Racing in everything they do attempting to do it all

Never having enough time always something more

The job the kids the wife the dog the trash the yard

None stop spinning at top speed

Perhaps you are a 45 spinning at half the speed

Finding time for some fun in your life

Prioritizing in ways that feed your soul and spirit

Loving life working hard pacing your self

Seeing the good in the world around you

I feel like I am in 33 1/3 speed spinning at a leisurely pace

Finished with the 78’s and less of the 45’s

Career is done and life is good finding my stride

Choosing my hobbies my friends and enjoying my family

No longer killing myself to get to the finish line

Realizing it is just around the bend

But not yet in sight




In the equinox of life people cross our path

Some have been gone for quite awhile

Others pass each day

Friends long gone come our way like spring

Bringing energy and new life as we reminisce

Like spring rains to water our soul they arrive

Some will stay others will leave our life once again

Then there are persons who pass through our life

Bringing memories of dread feelings of pain

Scorching our soul once more as they cross our path

Like raging tornadoes they blow through

Leaving verbal destruction and tails of dread

Which one are you at equinox intersection of life

Do you bring joy and blessing or gloom and dread

Be like the Spring Equinox anticipated and welcomed

Be life and breathe nourishment and strength

Few enjoy the anticipated frigid cold of the Fall Equinox

Life is too short to live with attitudes of judgement and hate

Let your equinox encounters be filled with Love

Seasoned with the salt of Grace

Welcomed at each path’s crossing

Rotten to the Core


Rotten to the Core

Even the giants can be rotten to the core

Beautiful on the outside and not much more

A view that makes folks ooh and aah

Shake their heads admiringly he’s come very so far


Strong bulging limbs give appearance of strength

Wide spread arms are open full length

Children enjoy his shade climbing high in his arms

Higher they climb without fear or alarm

Yelling and hollering,  “Mom look at me!”

Dads down below asking, “Wbat do you see?”

This old giant’s been around for very many  years

Seen wind and rain and even a few tears

But now he gone ready for the flames

Lying on the ground on a horizontal plane


No one knew he was rotten to the core

Everyone thought he would last a few more

But when that fateful wind gripped his strong limbs

He fell with a crash no holding back the wind

When all had gathered to wonder and know more

They saw to their shock he was hollow and rotten to the core


Things take their toll when death comes knocking at your door

Especially when you’re hollow and rotten to the core



Photos: Dwight L Roth

Gender Toys


Gender Toys

No no no… little boys don’t play with dolls

How many times have we heard these words

Squelching the caring nurturing side of sons

Boys play with trucks space ships and guns

Why do we micromanage play

Instead of letting it develop in creative ways

What are we afraid of why do we care

Girls who climb trees are Tomboys

Does playing with dolls make a boy a sissy

It’s a shame what we put in their heads

Are we protecting them or ourselves

Why not just let them play

Let them live and enjoy

Let them Love and learn compassion

Toys only have gender if we put it there

Maybe we could learn something from the kids

Leaving our two cents out of the mix

Chris with Ruth's Raggedy Ann 001

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Watching Over Her Kingdom


My Red tail hawk came by to visit me today. She sat on the limb at the edge of my back yard and surveyed her kingdom. She was keeping an eye on my bird feeder hoping a mourning dove might come by. She did not seem to be concerned about the little birds or even the squirrel that sat very still on a tree twenty feet away. Two days age she was there sitting on the power line about twenty feet back. While she was there a male came and landed on the line right beside her. It must be mating season, considering what ensued.  He soon flew off and not too long after she followed him in the same direction. Here are a few more shots.






Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Just a Cup of Cold Water


I first wrote this as a song that expresses how important the little things in life are to others. When you show you care by the simple things like giving a cup of cold water, or a hug to a child, or visiting a shut-in, you are expressing God’s grace to those around you. Make a difference in the lives of others.


Just a cup of cold water

Reaching out with a helping hand

Just a cup of cold water

Reaching out with God’s hand      


Love a child show you care

Let him know that you’re there

Reaching out with the hand of God

Feeling safe in his love


Speak freedom to the captive soul

Set prisoners free help them know

You’re reaching out with the hand of God

Set them free in his love


Just a cup of cold water

Reaching out with a helping hand

Just a cup of cold water

Reaching out with God’s hand    


Photo: Dwight L. Roth  

Some Stand Alone


Some Stand Alone

Few it may be who can survive alone

Facing summer’s heat and winter’s cold

Grounded in their own strength

Very few stand alone undaunted

Rising high above the landscape

A tower of strength bowing to no one

No need for intertwined arms

Holding up others by their interlocking

Some find strength within themselves

Deeply rooted where waters rise

Feeding the inner being with life and energy

Like a monk in the mountain monastery

Providing shade that no one ever stands in

Viewed from afar with Goliath’s awe

Passed every day by thousands too busy

To find solitude under its spreading branches

Wondering as they go  flying by what it is

That makes something so beautiful

Stand alone


Photo: Dwight Roth













The Woodland Symphony

Music pours out from shadow and tree

Calling us all to enjoy a reprieve


A melodious symphony straight from the heart

Each tiny instrument playing its part

Miniature voices in perfect pitch

Unwritten scores of notes that are rich

Filled with a beauty beyond man or pen

A symphony of music that will never end


Mocking birds solo sopranos and basses

Finding their notes in so many spaces

Piccolo warblers and wren solos start

Antiphonal melodies straight from the heart


The bassoon bull frog comes in now and then

Cicadas’ strings play background blends

Crickets and blue jays fill the air

The snare of the trees adds depth to the pair

Woodpeckers drumming on old hollow trees

A staccato rhythm that floats on the breeze


Suddenly right out of the blue

The feline conductor brings all in on cue


With a growing crescendo from blue jay and friends

Celloed instruments calling, “This is the end!”


The squirrel plays percussion with his raspy scolding

As the woods fills with music the finale’s unfolding


A thunderous applause from the balcony on high

Brings all to their feet flashes crossing the sky

The concert is over the conductor’s gone home

Performers take bows the music is gone


Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Nature’s Vanishing Specter


Nature’s Vanishing Specter

I woke up this morning with snow all around

On the trees on the road and covering the ground


A magnificent site of brilliant white

Covering the earth what a wonderful sight


Reflected glory on creek and limbs

Virginal blanket where no footprints have been

Green daffodil stems and red buds showing

We thought it was spring but now it’s snowing


Don’t worry this specter soon will pass

Life in the South means it won’t last


By three o’clock the snow was crying

The grass is green and the sun is shining


This ghost was gone it had no body

A specter of white just trying to be naughty


Photos: Dwight L. Roth