Stairway to Heaven

A little girl saw a long wooden ladder, with wheels as tall as she was, sitting inside the Cathedral door. Seeing the priest greeting Sunday parishioners nearby, she reached over tugging on the arm of his robe.

Her mother quickly pulled her away and said, “Don’t bother the priest while he is greeting people!”

The priest overhearing what was happening said, “It is quite alright. What would you like to know young lady.”

“Is that the stairway to heaven?” she asked.

“No child, Heaven is much farther away than this ladder could reach. This one is for changing our lightbulbs.”

“Well, where is God?” asked the little girl.

“Oh, Only mouths are we, who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things? God is the center of all that exists, both near and far.”

“And, thank you for asking.”

Today at d’Verse, Sanaa introduced a Prosery prompt. It requires a short prose piece, only 144 words, that includes a line from a poem that she has chosen. The line is“Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things? – from Rainer Maria Rilke, “Heartbeat.”

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Photo from the Stasbourg Cathedral: Dwight L. Roth

Back to Normal

I guess the turtles haven’t heard of social distancing. We visited Dogwood Park again yesterday and saw all this log full of turtles sunning themselves. I think I count seventeen of them on this log. I saw them off in the distance and circled around and down through the trees to get this shot.

Today was Mother’s day, and having had our shots, we decided to venture out to one or our favorite restaurants for a late afternoon dinner. We arrived at 2:00 thinking we would avoid the crowd but it was a lot like the turtles on the log above. All booths and tables were open and for the most part full. They did add extensions to the back of the booths to raise them higher. Staff wore masks, but eaters obviously did not! It was very nice to be back in a feeling of pre-Covid normal again.

Felt back to normal

Out for Mother’s Day dinner

Turtles rock their log

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Lilacs Still Bloom

One of my mom’s favorite flowers was the sweet smelling lilac that grew near our driveway. I planted this bush to remind me of her. It is hard to imagine that it is fourteen years since she passed away. Her memory is always with me in so many little ways.

Mother’s Day

Memories of Mom linger sweet

Lilacs bloom each Spring

Photo’s Dwight L. Roth

Flat Earth – (palinode)

Flat Earth

What if the Earth was flat

Imagine that

There are some who still believe

Wondering if at some point

They might wander too far in the breeze

And sailing on suddenly drop off the edge

Into the abyss of lost souls’ deep wedge…


Flat Earth – (Palinode)

Who could imagine

that the Earth is flat

Surely no one still believes

Knowing the Earth is round

With ships sailing in the breeze

The only edge is the outer edge

As astronauts rocket into space

Just as pretty as you please

Today at d’Verse, Grace introduced us to a poetry form called a palinode. A palinode or palinody is an ode or song that retracts or recants a view or sentiment to what the poet wrote in a previous poem. I decided to use my tongue in cheek poem Flat Earth as written above.

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To read the original complete Flat Earth poem click here:

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Little Red Tractor

My sister sent me this little red tractor for my birthday. It is a “Quilling Card.” made by rolling and shaping small strips of paper to create a three dimensional design. It is a beautiful work of art, made with unimaginable precision. You can read more about Quilling in the summary below.

Ancient art crafted

Cute Little Red Tractor shines

Time keeps on ticking

Another birthday rolls by

Sister sends her love

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

The Graveyard Jackrabbit

Here they come again disturbing my tranquility

Sometimes it’s a few; but today there’s a crowd

Not sure what all the fuss is about

I think I will hop over here out of the way

Oh no, I think a couple of them saw me

Here he comes, hand out, like he thinks I am his pet

Seems every time they come here they all seem sad

All dressed up and in their Sunday best

A new stone gets added with every event

Sure is a nice place to live most of the time

Now and then I have to watch I don’t fall into a hole

So odd that they bury those big boxes in the dirt

When they leave, the flowers they brought are left for me

Don’t they know I don’t eat flowers!

Next week the lawn man will come and haul them off

Well, they’ll soon be gone and I will have peace and quiet

I guess I can put up with them for a short visit

As long as they let me live here I am very happy

Such a beautiful place… so full of life!


Today at d’Verse Ingrid asked us to write a narrative poem using the voice of a fictional character. I decided to write from the perspective of the graveyard jackrabbit that we saw three years ago at my father-in-law’s funeral. Hope this is not to far out!

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Review of “Poems from the Heart” by Dwight Roth

What a beautiful and generous thing to do… Thank you Dora!!

Dreams from a Pilgrimage

Whether Mr. Roth’s Poems from the Heart are read over the course of a week or a day, you will feel each time that you’ve just had a heartfelt talk with a friend: a friend with a way with words in all the particulars that touch you to the core. You’ll come away as if you’d been on a companionable walk, finding more in common than not with the poet, and knowing that it was time well-spent for the sentiments shared.

So it’s altogether fitting that the first poem is “Famous Only Among Friends”; after all only such fame is real and meaningful, with time spent and hearts open. And Roth invites us into his thoughts with his signature openheartedness, a style that is thankfully short on obscurities and long on frank and unabashed clarity so that its poetic beauty penetrates the heart.

Throughout this collection of poems, you will…

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Grow Where You are Planted

Maple seeds fly

with the advent of Spring.

Miniature helicopters,

blades spinning in the wind.



like a kite on the breeze;

Only to float to the ground…

the roof… the gutter… or rain barrel

destination unknown…

deposited for growth.

New life begins

Today at d’Verse, Merril gave us seed as our Quadrille (exactly 44 words) Prompt. Every spring the maple trees are the first to open. Their seeds drop in abundance and land everywhere. We called them helicopters, when I was young, and threw them back up in the air to watch them spin around to the ground. Nature has so many ways to keep the growth cycle going. Just about anywhere they land they will put down a root and try to grow. A good example for all of us!

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Painting Flaws and All

Back in 2013, I started painting regularly. I watched Bob Ross on PBS every day while I ate my lunch. I was in awe of the way he made a canvas pop in just a half an hour show. I then went out in my garage and tried to replicate what I saw him do. Though I never really was able to master the paint brush like he did, I learned enough to create my own style of painting. I loved experimenting with paint and colors to see what I could come up with. This is one of those paintings. I was pleasantly surprised that some people actually enjoyed my work. Painting was as almost as gratifying as writing poetry!!

An amature’s attempt

Texture and imperfection

Flaws some might feel

detract from the value


Beauty is found

in the eye of the beholder

Where flaws add character

and uniqueness is perfection

Painting: Dwight L. Roth