My Blood Runs Red…


Today I stopped to visit a big red Farmall M sitting along the road. It brings back so many memories of driving one in the summer during my teen years many years ago. I thought I would share some photos and memories with you.

My blood runs Farmall red

Filling my mind with memories

of days gone by so long ago

Back when fields were plowed

With three bottom plows

Turning over thick rich soil

Farmall red is a color full of life

Of roaring engines full of power

Days on the farm combining wheat

Shoveling it into the granary bins

Of lumbering Holstein cows

Coming down the lane udders full

Ready to be milked morning and night

Barn filled with the smell of hay

Silos filled with chopped corn fermenting

Big red Farmall tractors helping it happen

Yes, my memories run red… Farmall Red.

Click on the thumbnails to enlarge:

Posting for d’Verse open link night.

Join us at:

For more great farm stories check out my book Farm Stories on Amazon Kindle. You can read it free if you have Kindle Unlimited.

You Know it has to be Good!

IMG_2670 (2)

This recipe is tried and true

Favorite of mine just for you

 Sausage and pineapple

in beef broth stew

Onions and green peppers

And celery too

A little black pepper

and some garlic for you

Spooned over rice

too be good to be true


Photo: Dwight L. Roth


Posting for Punam’s pepper prompt at d’Verse. A 44 word Quadrille. This is a favorite recipe of mine that is delicious. It is best served with All-Bran Muffins fresh out of the oven.

Join us at: 

Cataracts or Cubist Vision

Portrait of Eivind Eckbo painted in 1914

“Portrait of Eivind Eckbo” painted in 1914: Thorvald Hellesen

When I was very young seventy years ago, my grandmother was suffering from blurred vision from cataracts. She was not able to get surgery to get them replaced like I was and spent her final years unable to see clearly. It is amazing how far medical surgery has come.

Grandma’s eyes grew dim

Figures blend like cubist art

 Winter of her life


So much we take for granted

in our self-centered lives

IMG_2062 (2)

Grandma with my oldest brother

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Lillian asked us to choose one of five paintings by Norwegian painter, Thorvald Hellesen, and write a poem in any form that inspires us.

Join us at:

Reading Fun

IMG_E2210 (2)

I started my teaching career in the early 1970s at a small-town elementary school in Bridgewater, Virginia. From the start my goal was to try to make learning fun for my students. In the photo above are two of my fourth-grade students putting their paper cars on the wall for Evil Knievel to jump over on his motorcycle. Some of you might remember when he tried to jump the Grand Canyon!

We had a reading program called SSR Silent Sustained Reading that the students were to read the last twenty minutes of the day. You can see they really got into reading as a result. Those were good days to remember.

Cars stacked for the jump

Students got into reading

when learning was fun

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Frank asked us to write a Haibun that speaks to a memory. This was one of the fun projects I did with my students. I still have connections with a few of those early students on Facebook.

Join us at:

For more stories check out my book on Amazon Kindle:

Attitude Adjustments



Back in the 90s when I was still teaching school, I was feeling burned out and disillusioned with my job. I did an assessment and looked at what it would take to get another job that would pay me what I was earning as a teacher. With my boys starting college it was not the time to bail out on my job. The only other option was to work on me! I finally came to this conclusion:

It is easier to change my attitude

Than to change my job


I found this to also be true in my marriage relationship.

It is easier to change my attitude

Than to change my spouse

I am sure there are other situations in life where this is applicable as well.

Muttart Conservatory Photo: Dwight L Roth

Keep Moving

DSC_0274 (2)

Sweat waters my brow

Working a growing garden

Letting it happen


Nature’s bending exercise

My personal weight loss program

DSC_0288 (2)

Photos: Ruth and Dwight Roth

I am not a big fan of exercise, but I do love working in my garden. It is something I have done for many years. Although my garden is getting smaller as I get older, I still love getting my hands in the dirt and seeing the plants grow and produce. This is the kind of exercise I can get into.

I am posting this for Michele’s “What Moves You” challenge. We are to post a photo and a written response to show how we keep moving and stay healthy. You can read more about it at her Word Press site My Inspired Life.

check it out and join us:

Also posting for open link night at:

Does the Songbird Still Sing?

EER_0576 (2)

“The Gujarati poet Parul Khakhar was reprimanded for her poem referencing Covid 19 and bodies in the Ganges – ‘Shavvahini Ganga’ (Ganges the Carrier of Corpses) – read this article “Flogged, imprisoned, murdered: today, being a poet is a dangerous job’ by Tishani Doshi for more detail. Her subsequent poem is entitled “You Are Not To Speak” a witty riposte in my view.”

Paul, guest host at d’Verse today, asked us to remember the poets who have and are now persecuted and caged away for their views and words. Words of political nature carry weight and have influence. Those who speak and write them are often censored by the authorities who are supposed to be working for justice and human rights. My poem today is a reflection of my thoughts after reading the article mentioned above.


Does the songbird still sing behind walls of stone

While with windows caged, they are left all alone


Hidden away by forces dark and sinister

Does the songbird’s words still ring along the banister


The songbird’s voice melodic and sweet

Cuts through to the heart of Power’s seat


For some, they hear a nightingale singing

While dark hearts hear only raucous ringing


The songbird does sing behind walls of stone

For a mind that’s free is never alone


And though no one hears her caged voice singing

The words she writes will go on ringing


From every stone steeple and podium high

Those words will resound, they will not die


Photo of the Fortress at Koblentz: Dwight L. Roth

Join us at: