Down the Road



At the end of the road when my life is done

What will I find will there be one

Who will meet me there at the pearly gates

With hands outstretched no need to wait

Will he be tall short fat or thin

When he sees me will he break out with a grin

Funny to me how we fantasize

Making God like us as we rationalize

Dreaming that descriptions of hands and face

Describe a reality that has no race

Metaphors become reality as we describe our God

Forgetting he is Spirit and that would be odd

For a Spirit has no shape, no hands to hold tight

Only a presence of the purest light

So whether our God is he she or it

The God we meet will probably not fit

The idea we have in the back of our mind

Won’t it be interesting what we will find

At the end of the road


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Open link night for our d”Verse poets group. Com join us:


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Art is the truth that cuts to the heart

Revealing the very nature of ourselves

Be it both good and evil


Art is the expression of the soul

That breathes life into a brush full of paint

Or notes onto a staff of lines and spaces


Art is the primal scream of the heart

Broken // shattered // lost in remorse

Knowing nothing will ever be the same


Art is the graffiti on the walls // the train cars // the body

Crying out to be noticed //stories to tell

Healing sought in spray cans and needles


Art is the music of the soul breathing notes

Melodies and rhymes // a symbiotic flow

Transcending time and space


Art is the poem from the heart of the poet

Prophetic expressions of love // hate // fear

Conjuring up feelings from deep within

Erupting onto paper and screen

With an unstoppable flow


Art is what makes sense of chaos

Transcending war and pain

Gives hope to undying dreams within

One’s soul  // telling us to keep on


Art is the adhesion that keeps society bonded

Brings us to laughter and tears

Unifies and draws us together in love

Art is who we are…


Eagle Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Street Limericks


There was an old man from Rope Walk

Whose coordination was all in a squawk

He stepped out on the wire

Which was straight as an arrow

But his fright of heights made him balk


Puss in Boots lived down Catshole Lane

Her manner of dress was never plain

When her Tom came a prowling

In her boots she was howling

And Cats down the whole lane did the same


Johnny moved in on Potacre Street

With grow lights and garden complete

He planted his garden

On this plot he could live on

Now his customers all call it High Street


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’verse we were asked to write a lighthearted poem using a selection of street signs that were given to us.  I chose to write limericks about three of the sign choices. Hope you enjoy them.  Come join us at:

Clouds in Black and White

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My wife took these photos as we were returning home to Charlotte, NC this week. They were specular in color, but I wanted to see how they would come out in Black and White. I love the contrast that shows up in these thunderheads.  You could see the displaced anger boiling up inside these clouds. Can you hear the silent rumblings? What rage could stir up this much emotion?

Angry thoughts rise up

Thunderheads churn silent rage

Waiting to explode

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Photos from iPhone SE: Ruth A. Roth

Frank Hubney, at d’Verse, asked us to write  a Haibun that refers to silent words. They could be words running through our head, or things we see that speak to us or inspire us. I chose to write about hearing what the clouds might be saying as these giant thunderheads form on the horizon. Come join us at d’Verse:




What does it mean to be patriotic?

Is it only being a soldier fighting in war

Or standing for the national anthem

Is it voting for the “Right” political party

And talking junk about the one that’s “Left”

Is it always agreeing with government policy

Or putting your hand on your heart for the pledge…

Making sure we leave out “In God we trust!”

Perhaps it is voting that makes us patriotic

Picking from a list of unknowns or voting a straight ticket


Patriotic people include many who make life happen

Doctors and nurses care for the sick and injured

Orderlies clean up the messes and mop the floor

Factory workers daily keep America humming

Truckers haul it to your destination

Farmers raise the crops that feed us all

Teachers lay the foundation of future success

Construction workers build our buildings

Pastors and Priests care for our souls

Soup kitchen workers and volunteers feed the homeless

Business people Secretaries // Mail carriers and police

Mothers of children shaping young lives

Cooking, Cleaning // Loving and Caring

And the list goes on and on…


Perhaps it is those who show respect to one and all

Workers for peace both at home and abroad

Those who bring people together  building relationships

Patriots stand for justice and care for the needy

All who contribute to the common good

Make our country strong


Are patriots in their own right


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Blood and Poppies

EER_0518Each Memorial Day, when I was young, the large community cemetery behind our church filled with flags that waved across the sloping hillside. Volunteers from the VFW commemorate those soldiers who died in service to their country by placing a flag on each grave. I never saw any poppies growing as in Flanders’s Field, but many other flowers dotted the hillside along with the flags.

Memories are mixed

Joy and sorrow flows freely

as blood // and poppies

wave on the resting places

of those who never came home


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Frank Tassone asked to write a Haikai poem Haiku or Tanka that reflects on some aspect of Memorial Day.  Check them all out at:

#Haikai Challenge #35 (5/26/18): Memorial Day #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga



Evening in the Valley


This weekend we have been traveling. This evening we took a ride through the farming country of Stuarts Draft, Virgina.  It was late evening and the clouds were catching the setting sun. Below are some of my evening shots in the Shenandoah Valley.










Photos:Dwight L. Roth

Waiting for Lunch


This painting of a lone egret was painted for our friend Jean, who lives in Alberta. I originally painted a large painting of the same scene. When she saw it she loved it, but it was too big to ship. So I painted a smaller one and packed it in between the clothes in my suitcase, when we traveled to Edmonton.  It is one of the few oils I have done. I usually paint with acrylics. The painting was still in tact when we opened the suitcase. She has it hanging on the wall in her kitchen, and enjoys it every day!

Patiently watching

Unseen critters provide lunch

Reflection follows


Egret Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Rain Songs

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Rain Songs

Karen Carpenter’s velvet voice sang

“Rainy Days and Monday’s Always Get Me down”

Sadly the rainy days finally caught up with her

We all grieved when she took her life


Brook Benton and Ray Charles both expressed her sadness

“A Rainy Night in Georgia, such a rainy night in Georgia

Lord, I believe it’s rainin’ all over the world

I feel like it’s rainin’ all over the world.”


Confusion and misery showcased by Vietnam War

Led Creedence Clearwater Revival asks the question

“Who’ll Stop the Rain?”

That war finally ended… but we still hadn’t learned

Many more followed //the confusion continues…


B. J. Thomas brought uplift to rain with

“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head”

I’ll do a little talking to the sun and…

Wait for happiness to stand up an greet me

“Because I’m free… Nothings worrying me”

Showing us all that our perspective on the rain

Determines how it affects us


Info for this poem taken from:



The Tie That Binds


Blest Be The Tie That Binds

“She did what?” “Oh, “How funny!”
“Did she get hurt?” “How did she get out?”

An evening of food, fun, and music
Church dinners are always delicious
Fat and happy, we gathered under the trees
A hymn sing began as guitars twanged
Dusk was upon us // crackling fire warmed s’mores

Everyone brought lawn chairs of various kinds
I brought a couple of old ones for my wife and me
Crisscrossed webbing with screw in each web
Had done them myself… many years ago

Calling out hymns to sing // sitting around the fire
Then came the call for “Blest Be the Tie That Binds”
Chord was strummed // the song begun
When out of the blue her webbing snapped
Too many years of wear came suddenly to an end

When I looked over… there she was
Nose on her knees and butt in the grass
Priceless shocked look on her face
Music interrupted everyone howled with laughter
Captured moment // frozen in place …

Finally someone gave her a hand…helping her stand
The sing along ended //darkness was upon us
But to this day when we sing “Blest Be the Tie That Binds”
It always brings a smile


Photo: Dwight L. Roth –  Hymn Book

Our prompt today at d”Verse Poets Pub is to write a poem about a humorous event that occurred in our family. Hope you enjoy this one.  Come join us at: