Trains of My Childhood

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My fascination with trains goes all the way back to my childhood. Watching the old steam trains rolling along the river embedded images in my mind that are just as clear now as they were back then. I lived in coal and coke country in the southwest corner of the state of Pennsylvania. The power of those Pufferbilly Dragons always leaves me in awe.

The Pennsylvania Dragon

Steel wheels keep on turning

Keeping rhythm perfect time

Hauling coke from the ovens

Hauling coal from the mines

*

Down along the winding river

Monongahela was its name

Comes the “Pennsylvania Dragon”

Belching smoke & shooting flames

Engines 29’s a coming

See the light and hear the steam

As she passes Martin crossing

You can hear that whistle scream

Train coming up the track

Whistle blowing at the crossing

Black smoke pouring from her stack

On to Pittsburgh she’ll be rolling

Tomorrow she’ll be coming back

*

Counting coal cars as she passes

Waving to the engineer

100 cars hauling heavy

Red caboose at the rear

*

Now the trains of my childhood

Are all silent lost in time

And those “Pufferbilly Dragons”

Are just memories on my mind

*

Down along the winding river

No more smoke or shooting flames

Just the rumble of the diesel

…but it’s just not quite the same

 

A song I wrote in memory of the beautifully powerful steam trains that used to run the tracks between Pittsburgh and Morgantown, WVA.

Posing for Food

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My pair of Red-bellied woodpeckers came to the feeder this morning. They love the sunflower seeds I put out. I grabbed the camera, but the female had flown off. The male stayed around and posed for me while he ate. I got several good photos which you will see as you read the poem below.

Posing for Food

Coming to my rail you know

There are sunflower seeds for the shelling

Eat as long as you wish my friend

But first put on a show

Red-bellied Woodpecker in all his glory

Dressed in chic jacket black and white

Smooth red head grabbing attention

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He poses I click no need to worry

Not a bad deal posing for food

Just eat you fill and remain still

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Cocking your head this way and that

Coming back for more I knew you would

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Now you’re on the gutter pecking away

Drumming your steady staccato rhythms

Marking your territory calling your mate

Chiseling holes as treetops sway

Just like most men you love to pose

Always ready to put on a show

Noisy boisterous wanting her attention

Strutting and primping in your fine clothes

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Morning Calls Me

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Morning Bursts Forth

Morning bursts forth in all its radiant glory

Peering into the dark sheltered woods

Highlighting the trees dancing on flowers

The stepping stones draw me to the trees

To the mysterious woods sheltering the creek

Turning to mush in summer’s heat

Frogs buried in the mud keep cool

Sending out their sharp croaks

Calling for someone to hear

Morning breezes soon shift

To a sauna of heat and humidity

But for now the glorious morning rests

On the yellow buttercups

Red salvia bathes in the sunlight

Reaching toward the heavens

Calling me to come join them

In the exhilaration of the beckoning day

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Painting and Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Feeling Masks

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The “Just Fine” Mask

“How are you?”  “Oh, I am just fine!”

How easy to protect ourselves behind our mask

Social butterflies flitting here and there

A drop of nectar from me and one from you

Kiss, Kiss!

“How are you?”  “Well, I have been better.”

“Stop right there I don’t want to know”

Cutting you off …too much information

No invested emotion here

Kiss, Kiss

“How are you?” “Oh, I am so glad you asked!”

“Here we go again… do I really have to listen to this?”

“Tell me what is going on, I would love to hear.”

“Don’t worry it will get better.”

Kiss, Kiss

“How are you?”  “I am really struggling!”

“I am so sorry, tell me more.”

“What can I do to help?”

“I’ll call you soon!” “Then we’ll talk.”

Kiss, Kiss

“Hi how are you?”  “I’m fine!”

“I can’t deal with this anymore”

“Love you”

“Goodbye!”

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Reposting from Last summer

Night Beacon of Light

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Night Light

Towering above dunes gnawed by ocean waves

Stands a monument of engineering

Seeking some souls to save

A beacon of light to prowling ships in the night

Specters of the sea

Those who listen… who shake with fright

Will live to see dry land tonight

Light piercing darkness guides a ship all alone

Flashing danger ore a graveyard

Of lost ship’s bones

A brick and mortar giant of clay

Calls excited children to come and play

Or climb the winding backbone of steel

And dream of one day steering a ship’s wheel

And every night the mirror shines

Reflecting the light within

Through hurricanes, lightning, wind, and rain

Into the black of night again

Children and parents have all gone home

The dark waves pound the shore

Standing strong it’s all alone

Knowing some ships sail no more

Rain and hail beat the window panes

But the light of life never wains

Ships toss on the rolling foam

The colossal stands alone

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Reposted from last summer

Life’s a Stage

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The Curtain Rises

From womb to womb my comfort displaced

Crying with stage fright I take my place

Unprepared for all the applause

I am a star if only for the moment

Smiles and laughter great every performance

Amid my screams and demanding fears

 

Cheers and applause, my part rewritten

I begin to emerge from behind the curtain

Sometimes a hit sometimes a flub

Learning, shaping, the cheers die down

Settling into the character I’ve become

Directors change the play goes on

 

Too much, too hard, I want to get off

But the director draws me back to my spot

Reviews are harsh, my lines self-written

Searching finally loving my part

Free to explore, to grow, to change

Invincible, creative, I speak from my heart

Loving and caring my understudies arrive

Watching and learning smiling wide eyed

Full of wild wonder, joy, and fear

Finding their part reading with pride

Filling in when I flub my line

 Taking my part as I decline

 

The play of life a fleeting grand moment

As the curtain falls time after time

Cherishing each applauded performance

Handling each misstep covering dropped lines

Awestruck with each outstanding delivery

My understudy’s here their stage time is ready

 

Life’s a stage where we all perform

Big parts and small parts lessons to be learned

As I near the end of my acting career

Mine not for prying eyes or loud cheer

Just a small part far from perfection

Played, then my understudy assumes the direction

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

This is a repost from last summer!

Baby Boy

jason-with-home-made-sock-monkey-001  I am sure you know someone who has adopted a child. It is a very special time, and sometimes a difficult one for the child, especially if the child is a year or two old.  I wrote this lullaby for my grandson who had a difficult adjustment to his new family. Nights were frightening to him. He is now well adjusted and full of life.

Sweet Baby Boy

Sweet baby boy just close your eyes

Go off to dreamland with a sigh

Sweet baby boy fly away

To worlds unknown beyond the eye

*

Sweet baby boy come to me now

With all your tears a cryin’

Sweet baby boy I’ll ease your fears

And soon you’ll be a sighin’

*

And when you wake I’ll be right here

Near you I’ll be lyin’

To keep you safe and let you know

This is your home where I am

*

Through tears and fears throughout the years

I’ll always be your Mother

And though you might not understand

There’ll never be another

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Nostalgia

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A friend of mine asked me to paint a picture of the family home for his aging father. It was torn down a few years earlier after he sold the house to a developer. All he had to show me was a photo with a  lot of bushes and trees growing in front of the house. By using that photo and asking him a lot of questions about details, I recreated his family home.  A few weeks ago his aunt called and wondered if I would do one for her. I finished it this week.This is house #2.

Nostalgia

What would you give to go home again

Back to the house that no longer stands

To the yard where you used to play

Nostalgia pulls on our heartstrings

Plays enchanting melodies of good times

Digging in the dirt with friends

Biking down the dirt road

Running barefoot on the wooded pathways

Playing Cowboys and Indians

Building forts in the woods

What would you give to be there again

Just as they once were many years ago

Some of us can go home again

But for many home is just a memory

A picture in the mind

A photo in the album

Or a painting on the wall

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Photo/painting: Dwight L. Roth

Control

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Control

O how we value being in control

Knowing we alone affect an outcome

Absolutely sure we’re unquestioningly right

Even when we’re wrong

O how we value composure

Keeping that strained pained smile

Even in the face of the most obnoxious

Pretending actions do not offend

O how we value knowing

Never asking for help

Ignoring the urging to ask

Believing though lost we still know

O how we value pretenses

Be it wealth skills or the perfect marriage

Never let our weakness show

Always well put together smiling

O how we value affirmation

Selfies on Facebook time after time

Promoting our accomplishments

Never satisfied always seeking more

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Wind & Humans

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Wind & Humans

Where does the wind get its strength

Acting just like us humans

A soft breeze especially pleasant

Caresses our face on a late summer evening

How then can the wind roar and moan

As it passes through the trees outside my house

Passive winds transformed into terrible giants

Throwing temper tantrums shrieking high notes

Why the anger in its voice as it flails about

Breaking limbs twisting treetops uprooting oaks

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It all comes down to hot air just like us

The cold resistance meeting the hot head of thunder

Just like we humans the wind reacts to hot air

As the thunderheads build power increases

Till it just can’t take it any more just like us

All hail breaks loose as outbursts violently erupt

Where hot heads and frigid hearts meet trouble resides

Demanding tearing up everything in sight blowing off steam

Just like some humans who just can’t take it anymore

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Last night a huge front came through with strong winds and rain. The wind took out the giant oak that sat in the yard at the entrance of our community. After it blew over we could see that the center was rotten and hollow.  The strength of the wind is amazing. So volatile and unpredictable, just like humans.

Photos: Dwight L. Roth