My Faith

Faith is the floodplain of Grace
Where I plant my roots to grow
Giving me the strength I need
To find meaning and purpose in life

Faith is the floodplain of Grace
Where conscience and moral values
Are cultivated throughout my lifetime;
Bringing meaning and purpose to life

Faith brings meaning and purpose to life
Sharing in a community of likeminded
Believers who support and encourage
One another to become all we can be

Faith is my connection to God
Community is the cement holding us,
The lively stones // the believers in Christ,
Together in love and fellowship

Faith is the floodplain of Grace where I am rooted
The source of who I am

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Scars and Stones

President’s Day is on Monday. Today Frank Tassone, asked us to write a Haikai poem that talks about a president or presidents past or present. As I read Tessa’s poem today, talking about the presidents on Mount Rushmore, this thought came to mind. See what your think!

Past presidents sit
high on pedestals // seats of
stone // immortalized.
New presidents leave their mark
Scars on the landscape of man

Could their marks reflect
fractured attitudes of us…
Supporters who vote?
Presidents are a mirror…
Take a good look at yourself

Come join us at: https://frankjtassone.com/2019/02/16/haikai-challenge-73-2-16-19-presidents-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/

Check out Tessa’s poem here:  https://tessacandoit.com/2019/02/16/haikai-challenge-73-2-16-19-presidents-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/

Picture of Lincoln Memorial: thousandwonders.net

Beauty at the Edge of Night

 

Summer sun falls low
Beauty from the edge of night…
Power lines humming

******

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Rock and Cedar

What exciting times // earth trembled // lifted
Oceans became mountains // vertigo rocks
“There’s a whole lotta shakin’ going on”
Crusty rumblings while continents shifted

Ocean sands oozed into valleys //magma cooled
Rocks crumbled as earth played musical chairs;
Boulders break off //tumble like drunk men
Finding a resting place as waters pooled

Tree-covered landscapes rooted in new soil
Former plants were buried beneath the shale
Digesting and ruminating for years
Becoming black liquid gold we call oil

Rock that rested a thousand years or more
Catches thorny cedars on creek bank shores

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Lillian, at d’Verse, asked us to continue our work with writing imagery in the Rubaiyat form. She wants us to add images and descriptions using our five plus one senses. Kinesthetic added  to the list. This involves the feeling one gets when spinning or tumbling out of control.

Join us at:  https://dversepoets.com

 

The Way to a Man’s Heart…

You may have heard the saying, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!” This holds true with me. I am always enticed by great food, especially home made by my wife. This afternoon she made this beautiful cherry pie for me for Valentine’s Day. I can’t wait to dig into it, but I promised to wait until tomorrow! If I am lucky, maybe I will have a piece for breakfast! Nothing says love like a homemade cherry pie!

Winter Valentine

She baked a sweet cherry pie

I know she loves me

**********

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

The Cold Light of Day

Winter’s grip

Trees shiver in darkness

Cold light of day

*********

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

First Kiss

He was tall with brylcreemed hair
Sixteen // a new driver’s license
She was petite // a spring flower
Fourteen // hormones tingling
Her cute irresistible smile drew him.
In the shadows of the church hallway
A first kiss // never to be forgotten
…Though so long ago

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, so today De asked us to write a Quadrille of 44 words that included a reference to a kiss. I wrote this one in memory of my first kiss!

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Building Word Castles of Stone

When we are young
our words erected billboards
Saying this is me… who I am… what I believe!
As we grow older
those words become stones
in a cavernous castle…
with tall spires
dark halls
dungeons
and locked chambers;
Holding pain
Long ago sentenced to life…
never to be let out again.
Surrounded by a moat
only crossed by a few
whom we choose to let in…
then quickly raising the drawbridge.
Our words // chiseled with time
mortared together
still saying:
this is me… who I am …what I believe!!

This poem was inspired by a poem by a fellow blogger, Ali Grimshaw, entitled The Architecture of Conversing. Please check out her poem as well.

The Architecture of Conversing

A Taste of Spring

While the North thaws out from the minus fifty+ wind chills of a week ago, The South East enjoyed the warm air flowing up from the Gulf Of Mexico. My daffodils had heads on them for the past two weeks. The burst of warm air caused many of them to bloom. It is a wonderful taste of spring in the middle of winter! Today the cold weather is back and the daffodils will feel the chill!

Daffodils blooming

Can’t resist the warm sunshine

Our first taste of Spring

**********

Winter’s not over // today

blossoms shivered in the chill

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

This Haibun is for Frank Tassone’s Haikai challenge to write a poem about “first spring gust”. We were gone the beginning of the week and when we came home on Wednesday, we were greeted by smiling daffodils blooming. Spring is just around the corner!

#Haikai Challenge #72 (2/9/19): first spring gust (haru ichiban) #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga

 

Red Brick Schoolhouse

When I was growing up, this little red schoolhouse sat just across the field from our home. When my oldest brother was five, he remembers wandering across the field to play with the school children at recess. Very soon after that, it was converted into a house. Our friend’s, the Kosacks, lived there with their daughter and a little black bulldog named Bowser for many years! It is amazing that 80 years later it is still standing; and people are still living in it. I took this photo in September, when I went back to visit my old home place, which did not fair so well.

Little red schoolhouse

Winter // children walked to school

Now a family home

 

Photos: Dwight L. Roth