Choice… or No Choice at All


Hobson’s Choice,” they say, “is no choice at all.”

Much like the choices of our digital world

Do you “agree” or “disagree” seems to come with

every new social media site or equipment driver

Be sure to read the agreement before clicking…

Yeah, right…Who is fool enough to do that??

“Agree” is a “Hobson’s Choice”… no choice at all

An ultimatum you can’t ignore nor refuse

It is “agree” or send it back!

Who wants to do that?

So, we make our choice to have none


Who knows what our choice allows…

Perhaps selling our information?

Listening to us and gathering information?

Spying on us through our camera?

Or… giving up our rights to everything imaginable!

But we will never know… till it’s too late.


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse our guest host Christopher Reilley asked us to write a poem using the word choice. I liked his definition of Hobson’s Choice which is no choice at all!

Join us at: https://dversepoets. com

Shelter or Seed Pod

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I am always amazed when I see mushrooms spring up in the grass. These three sisters look like they are made of porcelain, but they are so fragile. Under those sheltering domes are pockets full of spores that will be dropped at just the right time. As the mushrooms dry out the pods open and drop their spores. They will lie there in the dirt until once again the right temperature, moisture, and heat will make them grow and as the cycle of life continues.

Fragile domes shelter

new life after summer rain

Nature’s fancy art


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’verse Mish asked us to write a haibun using the word shelter. I decided to try something a bit different with this one. They look almost good enough to eat!

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I Can Still Dream…

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I can always dream… they never get old!

Let my mind wander up and down memories past

Delusions of grandeur finally replaced with reality


I can always dream… they never get old!

Remembering the good times when faces were flushed

Spontaneous times of sweet intense connection


I can always dream… they never get old!

Babies, turning into children, growing into adults

Blooming in their prime… still making our mistakes


I can always dream… they never get old!

Places to go and things to see traveling while we still can

Making the most of the time we have left


I can always dream… they never get old!

Even when I am old confined to a chair

Memories are as fresh as they ever were


I can still dream…


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

A Transformative Conversation with Author and Artist Dwight Roth, Part 2

I am grateful for my dear friend Kym for taking time to honor me with this post.

From Behind the Pen

Image Credit: Dwight Roth

Hello friends! Today I am presenting part 2 of my conversation with my good friend, artist, and author Dwight Roth. So, let’s get started, shall we?

So Dwight, what is your favorite genre?

Reading and writing have always been difficult for me in my younger years. So, I have not read voraciously as some do. But what I do read stays with me forever it seems. This is true of both fiction and poetry. Reading and writing have always been difficult for me in my younger years. I guess it would be fiction. And…I also like theological writings.

Name three of your favorite authors.

James Mitchner is a wonderful writer. I enjoyed the writings of C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity) and a lesser-known writer Watchman Nee (Sit Walk Stand), as well as Richard Foster (Celebration of Discipline).

If you could say one thing to your younger self…

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Strike a Match

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Sixty-three years ago, I bought my first new bicycle from Workman’s Bicycle Shop. It was black with chrome fenders. I was taking on a paper delivery route that covered a two-mile area, so I needed a good bike. The Workmans were friends of my family, so it was good to get one from them. It wasn’t actually brand new but felt new to me. The Workmans collected old bike and frames and refurbished them. New chrome fenders made them look brand new. 

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Matchbooks strike memories

Chrome fenders and Newspapers

John Workman’s Bike Shop

I found these matchbooks in my garage, and it took me back to the age of twelve. Most of them were collected since then. In a day when many people smoked, matchbook covers were a good way to advertise their businesses. Some of these came from Habitat Restore where I volunteer.

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

A Transformative Conversation with Author and Artist Dwight Roth

I am honored by my dear friend Kym Gordon Moore with this interview on her blog site. Thank you so much for this, my friend.

From Behind the Pen

Image Credit: Dwight Roth

I’ve known Dwight Roth for quite some time now. His spirit is so intoxicating and for those of you who are connected to him through this platform, I am sure you will agree. Now, surprisingly, throughout this interview, Dwight mentions my name (I didn’t pay for the blurb y’all). So, without further ado, I want to share this conversation about the man behind the brush and the pen. I present to you Mr. Dwight Roth ladies and gentlemen.

Tell us a little bit about Dwight Roth. What would you like for us to know about you?

I am a person who enjoys people and attempts to treat others as I like being treated. Creative thinking outside the box gives me great satisfaction. I was an elementary school teacher for 29 years. I really enjoy sharing information and helping others learn new things. That did not end…

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Burning Fall

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There was a time in the fall of the year when leaves were raked into a ditch and burned. The rising smoke snaked its way through the neighborhood burning eyes for some and tickling nostrils. For me, the sweet smell of burning leaves is synonymous with Fall.

Folks living in the country burned their leaves year after year. Sometimes those leaf piles burned into the evening shadows. They would take a ghostly stance and watch with a rake in hand as the pile got smaller and smaller. In time everything turned to ash. No one gave a thought about polluting the air. The evening wind carried the smoke away blending it into the other scents of Fall. It mixed with the smell of oak wood burning in woodstoves throughout the neighborhood.

Smoke from burning leaves

Mingles with the cool night air

Sweet smell of Autumn


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, guest host Jo asked us to write a poem of scents. They are those smells around us that tickle our senses and trigger memories and emotions. I chose to write about memories of fall leaf burning.

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Glorious Morning

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Morning bursts forth in all its radiant glory,

peering through the sheltered woods,

highlighting trees, dancing on flowers.

Steppingstones draw me to

the damp creek.

Frogs bury themselves in mud keeping cool

Morning breezes will soon shift

But, for now, the glorious morning shimmers.

Backyard Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Today, at d’Verse. Linda asked us to write a 44 word Quadrille using the word morning.

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Embedded Fossils

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Imprints From the Past

Can you imagine a few eons ago when the seabeds shivered?

Earth’s crust groaned and cracked uplifting ancient sediments covering all

embedding living crustaceans in layers of mud and sand.

Hot molten lava sealed their fate forever in layers of stone.

Then, folding ripples of sandstone built the Appalachian Mountains.


One summer thirty years ago, I searched and found a chunk of rock.

Solid sandstone lay buried there on a western Virginia mountainside.

A new road cut into the ridge and rocks were pushed aside.

I found a chunk weathered and worn, but with faint imprints outside.

Excited, I cracked it open with my hammer to see what was locked inside.

As pieces fell apart from the whole, stunning treasures could no longer hide.

Creatures from a million years ago were perfectly preserved inside.

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When I taught elementary school back in the 90s, I collected rock wherever I traveled to use in my classroom when we studied rocks and minerals. This was a wonderful find for me. It came from a camp that my boys were attending. I knew there were some fossils in the stream that ran through the camp, but when I found this rock halfway up the ridge, I was very excited. Cracking open the rocks revealed the unweathered fossils were just as they were when they were first formed. I thought I had lost these when we moved, but I found them today when I was cleaning up my garage.

Fossil Photos from Highland Retreat Camp: Dwight L. Roth

Unexpected Moments

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Unexpected Moments

What a difference a week makes. Last Friday this time I was sitting in a consultation room at the hospital waiting for news regarding an emergency Cardiac Catheterization that was being done on my wife. She had heart attack symptoms earlier in the afternoon, so I took her to the ER. They said something was definitely happening and they needed to transport her to the heart center. We were somewhat surprised when they said it would be by helicopter!

The doctor found one almost totally blocked artery, and while he was in there, he put in a stent and opened it up completely. I was surprised to hear that the catheterization was done through her right arm. She was admitted overnight and sent home the next day! She is tired but doing well. What an unexpected shock. We had no idea that this artery was closing up. We are thankful this was only one of life’s close calls.

Life throws a curve ball

Heart’s blocked artery needs stent

Discharged the next day


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

August 28th… Now, a little more than two weeks later she is recovering and doing very well. She will be starting cardiac rehab this coming week. Thank you for all your kind concerns and prayers. We are very thankful for this wonderful outcome.