Analysis (A Hai bun)



Handwriting analysis has long intrigued me. My father introduced me to it when I was very young. The variations of the shapes of letters at the beginning, and especially the ending strokes of a signature, tell so much about the writer’s personality. Most signatures are a blend of more than one style.

Big bold and rounded letters often indicate someone who is very friendly and outgoing… a people person for sure. When the loops are small and precise, with uniform lettering all the way across, it may indicate a person who loves detail and perfection. When the endings of a person’s name have lots of flare, with long connected sweeping motion, and fancy dots on the iz, it indicates a very creative and artistic person.

On the other hand a person whose signature has lots of jagged points in their writing, at the bottom of gz or the top loop letters, or an  extended ending when crossing a t, may indicate someone who is impatient and critical of others. They often are hard to please and hard to live with!

Winter of my life

Cursive// manuscript // blended

My script’s  genius!!!

Kim, at d’verse~Poetry Pub, came up with an interesting challenge today. We are to write a Haibun about writing with pen or pencil that includes a Haiku ending mentioning a season.  My last few poems have been in a humorous vein. This one fits right into that style.

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Nature’s Resilience


In my flower bed I saw that daffodils were pushing up through the ground, in spite of the fact that we had snow five days ago that shut everything down for three days. When I stooped down to take a close-up photo, I discovered that there was a hidden crocus blooming among them.  How amazing to see nature’s resilience.

Nature’s Resilience

Winter showed herself with snow and ice

Closed down schools as airports de-iced

We were cautious // afraid to come out

For fear we might fall or get stuck while in route

We stayed all cozy and warm in our house

Crocuses and daffodils hid quiet as a mouse

The sun came out with snow on the ground

Kissed shoots and warmed leaves in beds all around

Excited and thrilled flowers opened their petals

Showing hope of spring in those cold shadows


Nature has cycles that each year never miss

Flowers bloom early with the bright sun’s kiss

No matter the cold or ice or snow

Nature is resilient // as spring will soon show



Photos taken today with my iPhone!  Dwight L. Roth


“The “Grass” is Always Greener…”

California recently passed a law legalizing marijuana. The pun about the grass being greener on the other side of the fence has been running through my head ever since. I thought I would write a humorous poem about this playing with  a variation of that phrase and the “Go West young man…” one as well. I hope it makes you smile.

“The “Grass “is always Greener…”

“Come West young man, Come West!”

And have no fear no matter what you hear

The grass in California is much greener here


How can that be so, after this sad year?


From LA to Modesto things are up in smoke

Wild fires burning, a ghastly fright’ning cloak

Hillside residents flee before they choke


Firefighters struggling to gain control

The earth is scorched, natures melanoma rolls.

Houses are burning, some fall off the cliffs

Metal ghost monuments sit rigid and stiff


Rich and poor all share the same lot

Looks like California became a black pot

A cauldron of disaster… an oddly mixed stew

Is California the place for me and you?


Have no fear// it will all come back

As long as we don’t fall into the crack

Things may seem bleak and cloudy this year

But have no worries the grass is greener here


And though the hills go up in smoke

We will stay mellow and have a toke

For the grass is much greener here!


Clip Art:

The Ocelot

When I taught fourth grade many years ago, my students learned some of Ogden Nash’s poems. This poem,The Ocelot, I now recall from memory. I feel it is the perfect poem to use to write another response poem, and poke some fun at the President. This is a continuation of our d’Verse poetry prompt from yesterday.  I hope these limericks will make you smile a lot.

The Ocelot

By Ogden Nash

There once was a finicky ocelot

Who all the yearlong was cross a lot

Except at Thanksgiving

When he enjoyed living

For he liked to eat Cranberry sauce a lot


My Response Poems:

Our President feels he must talk a lot

So to twitter he goes sounding off a lot

Except when he’s sleeping

In his mind he is dreaming

Of confusing fake News with his lies a lot


There once was a finicky President

Who has a unique White House for residence

Except for Maralago

Where he feels he must go

For he likes to play golf with the residents


The President is thoughtless and says a lot

At his meeting this week he got in a spot

When overheard saying

Some nasty conveyance

He’s now stuck with his foot in the pot a lot!



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Dwight and Ruth's engagement photos (2)


Jill Lyman, guest host at d’Verse~Poetry Pub, challenged us to write a response poem to a poem of our choosing. I chose With Music by Helen Hay Whitney.

My sister sent me this poem a while back, and as I read it I thought, “How sad that her memories of love were faded into some dim yesterday that she could barley remember.”

I remember my own experience 48 years later like it was yesterday. So, I rewrote my version of the poem and sent it back to her.

      With Music

By Helen Hay Whitney

Dear, did we meet in some dim yesterday?

    I half remember how the birds were mute

    Among green leaves and tulip-tinted fruit,

And on the grass, beside a stream, we lay

In early twilight; faintly, far away,

    Came lovely sounds adrift from silver lute,

    With answered echoes of an airy flute,

While Twilight waited tiptoe, fain to stay.

Her violet eyes were sweet with mystery.

     You looked in mine, the music rose and fell

 Like little, lisping laughter of the sea;

      Our souls were barks, wind-wafted from the shore-

      Gold cup, a rose, a ruby, who can tell?

      Soft-music ceases-I recall no more. 


Public Domain

“With Music” was published in “Sonnets and Songs”

 (Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1905).          

Found on the web site:


                Under the Ziegler Oak

        Dwight L. Roth

Yes dear, we did meet in some clear yesterday?

I distinctly remember how the cool breezes blew

Among green grass and shade of our oak,

And on the grass, beside the tree, we lay

In early twilight; faintly, overhead,

Came lovely sounds adrift from the mocking bird above,

With answered echoes of a scolding blue jay,

While Twilight waited tiptoe, fain to stay.


Her Brown eyes were sweet with innocent mystery.

You looked in mine, as the music rose and fell

Like little, lisping melodies of the sea;

Our souls were joined, our voices in harmony rose—

Golden words, a note, a line, who can tell?

Soft—music rising—I recall it all.


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Photo: Jim Bowman Photography





The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.

– Elie Wiesel



Give me comfort not truth

In a world lacking love

It is not that we need less hate

It is that we need less indifference


Some like my art others don’t

No one calls it ugly to my face

They just ignore it with indifference


When my poetry speaks of faith

Writing what I believe

No one calls it heresy

The just ignore it with indifference


Exploring ideas of life and death

Serious stuff to many

Others simply think it’s the end

So they regard their death with indifference


On our d’Verse Poetry Pub today, Amaya challenged us to choose a famous quote that speaks to issues we face in our world, and incorporate it into a poem of our own creation. This one really took me out of my box, but I finally came up with this interpretation of a favorite quote of mine from Holocaust Survivor, Eli Wiesel’.

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

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Reincarnation of Spirit

IMG_1380.JPGI was inspired today by a piece written by blogger, Ally Mare, that spoke of birth and death as having a magical quality of sorts.  All of it goes on around us, yet we are usually unaware until it happens to us or our family. As I read through his article this thought came to me, that reincarnation is really the spirit we pass on to our children. Our attitudes, our love, our joy and our faith. On the other had the negatives are passed on as well. It brings back the memory of a poem/song I wrote a few years ago called Leave a Legacy of Love. It is so important that we break the cycle of hate and violence in our world. It starts with the attitude of your heart.

Reincarnation of Spirit

As one body dies another is born

Rekindling the spirit within.

The cycle never ceases to go on

Passing on the light of God to our kin.

Some choose to pass on evil and hate

The infection spreads like the flu.

But even this infection you can abate

When the love of God is within you.

As we live our lives from day to day

Let God’s light dwell in your soul.

Knowing this world will be a better place

If you shed all that hate and turmoil.

Think about what you pass on to your children

Is it love or divisive hate?

What spirit will be reincarnated from you//

Think carefully before it’s too late.


Photo: Dwight L. Roth


After Time (a Quadrille)

Grave Marker 001

After Time

Everyone keeps time

Loses time

Takes time

Wants more time…


No one wants to talk

About what happens

after time.

Does time stop…


Eternity begin?

…Our last breath//

Bouncing our soul out gently

Does the screen go black…

Or just change format?


At d’Verse~Poetry Pub, today, De Jackson challenged us to write a quadrille (of exactly 44 words) using the word bounce. You might think of bounce as a game thing with children bouncing, or a puppy bouncing up and  down, or perhaps the bounce of the music beat.  This is a little different take on the word bounce, but you won’t forget it very quickly.

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Mother’s was best: Mush, pon haas, scrapple, polenta

This is blog about my Aunt Dorothy. She was an exceptional cook.

Also check out this link as well:

Compost & Grace

Mother was a city girl. She married a farmer. So, when they moved to the farm after their marriage in 1937, I imagine she had many skills to acquire. She was new to gardening, canning and caring for animals.   By the time I was aware of what cooking was, she had been developing those skills for ten or more years. She had gotten a head start on cooking. Her mother was a short order cook in Harrisburg, Pa., a job she continued into her late 70s. After graduation from high school, Mother took a job as a nanny in the country not far from where Dad grew up.   Somewhere, Mother learned to make pon haas.

Learning to like mush

The pon haas Mother made often included chicken broth plus small scraps of meat.  I wish I had asked her about the origin of her recipe.  Wife, Julia, grew up with…

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