When I think of March and April, it brings back memories of flying a kite when I was a young boy. The kite came in a long paper sack with the paper kite wrapped around two sticks, one long and one short. On the kite, a string was glued into the overlapping edges with the string showing at the places where the sticks were to attach. The kite was stretched and attached to each stick in the form of a T. It was diamond shaped and at the bottom I always tied a tail made form old rags or strips of cloth. This kept the kite from flipping round and round! With a two hundred foot roll of string tied to the middle of the T, the kite was ready.
I took the kite to the top of the hill on a windy afternoon, and lifted it over my head to catch the wind. It would catch and lift, immediately rising high into the sky. Slowly I let the string out until it reached the end of the roll. By then the kite was soaring high above the field with the tail flapping in the wind.
Truly living is like being a kite
thrown into the wind and carried high;
Yet, always grounded by the string
of moral and ethical values.
Calm winds keep us floating
barely above the horizon;
While the blustery gusts carry us
high above, and sometimes dive us down;
Yet, as long as we are tethered we soar.
When we lose touch with our grounding
We are carried rather than lifted,
and soon headed for a fall.
Photo: from free Bing Photos
Today Mish at d’Verse talked about how the weather in March and April is so fickle, warm one day and snow the next. Her dialogue brought back memories of flying kites as a boy. So this poem comes from a nostalgic spot. Hope you enjoy it.
Death reigns on the evening news, as we are shown reports of more police shootings. Marches and protests follow, as blame is passed and opinions are drawn on both sides. It disturbs me greatly to see this happen over and over again. Sadly, it seems to me, no one mentions the one thing that could have prevented many of these deaths from happening.
Tragic death lingers
Daily on the evening news
Trial by media
~ as accusations fly~
Sadly no one speaks
of what could keep them alive
Co-operation
***
This is my second Puente (bridge poem) for d’Verse Poets Pub. I have connected two senyru poems with a bridge line in the middle.
Today at d’Verse, Merril introduced us to Puente, bridge building in our poetry. We are to take the first verse and connect it to the third verse by a single bridge line that completed the first verse and leads into the third. This is a first for me, so I am sharing some thoughts running through my head today.
I have just completed a new children’s book called Silly Sue. It is about my bluebird that keeps flying against the window chasing her own image. It is done with limericks in a humorous style. I have also converted it to a coloring book as seen in the examples below. If you are interested in a free printable pdf. copy for your personal use, just email me a request at dwru27@aol.com.
There was a bluebird named Silly Sue
When she looked at the window saw blue
Thought, there’s an intruder
I must really show her
So, against the window she flew…
My story Dreamer is also available on pdf. printable color copy if you are interested…
I displace the skittish bluebird from her nesting box on the grape arbor. Today, I put my hands in dirt once more. I once dug my little garden plots all in one day. This year, just days away from 74, I have dug them one small section at a time, a little each day, until I get the dirt turned bottoms up. Today it is ready for planting my seven tomatoes and a few Zinnia seeds.
I love digging in the dirt, feeling the dirt with my fingers, breaking up the clods into workable soil. It is now that I know why I bother each year to keep planting a garden. It is that connection with my farming roots of years gone by that draws me to continue. For, as long as I can feel the soil, watch the plants grow, and eat the fruits of my labor, that I know I am truly alive.
Green tomato plants
Roots in composted soil
Taste of life is sweet
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Frank asked to write a Haibun about living in them moment. Join us at: https://dversepoets.com
I planted a few of these beautiful yellow iris a few years ago. They grew really well. I even got two or three blooms. After that nothing, just green flags waving in the wind. After about three years with no blooms, I dug them up and threw them into the woods. I left a few growing on the hill at the back edge of the yard. Well wouldn’t you know, I found a yellow bloom the other day, and a few more ready to open after the rain finishes. I have no idea why they would not bloom like the blue iris do. Any suggestions?
My Fourth graders enjoyed the story of Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. I wanted to tie in Reading with our study of Animals and I thought of a great way to make that happen. Wilbur, being such a lovable pig, was perfect for our project. I wanted to create the part of the story where Mr. Zuckerman took Wilbur to the State Fair, and Charlotte comes along and becomes his promoter.
I used my table saw to rip out some two inch slats from a piece of a poplar tree, which I used to build a crate. Chicken wire was shaped into a pig to put in the crate. In order to have a web I used a piece of plywood to make a high back. This worked well for both the backdrop and the yarn web.
The children loved covering Wilbur with Paper Mache. After putting on several layers, we left the pig dry. I bought a couple of cans of pink spray paint and we covered Wilbur in with a good coat of paint. He turned out to be a very cute pig.
Wilber came alive
Tweaking children’s curious minds
Spider’s web saves him
***
“Some Pig” // talk of the State Fair
Friendship lessons learned by all
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
This week I read Joanna’s (Gabychops) great post on author E.B.White’s Charlotte’s Web and a couple of others. It took me back to my teaching days many years ago. I want to give a shout out to you to check out her wonderful site Nature Tales.
You can read more stories of the hands on learning we did, when I taught elementary school, on Amazon Kindle “Teacher Tales” or email me for a free pdf. copy of my 74 page book. dwru27@aol.com
Taken in prime standing tall seventy feet above me
Now a home for black ants crawling deep dark tunnels
Bones still hard roots still deep in leaf mulch and dark earth
*
Green ivy climbing up creeping tall over bark
Annual rings encompassed soon cocooned forgotten
Rain and cold sun and heat reduce bones to tree dust
Food eaten nourishing blanketing sapling roots
*
We all rise tall trees strong flourishing in our prime
Soon cut down left for ants now cocooned forgotten
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse Bjorn asked us to write an anapestic tetrameter which is a poetic meter that has four anapestic metrical feet per line. Each foot has two unstressed syllables followed by a stressed syllable. This new for me so I am not sure if I got it right or not, but I gave it a try.
Roth Poetry 