Years ago these two cute little girls were the best of friends. They did not think about race or color, just that they really enjoyed each other’s company. Makes me wonder why it is so hard for adults to to the same. We need to work on Dr. King’s dream and make it become a reality.
Teach your children well
Love crosses all boundaries
Be their example
***
How are you doing your part?
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Fearsome and beautiful you sit on my rail
Letting me know you are the king
Birds disappeared on arrival
No lunch from my feeder today
As you contemplate your next move
Your eyes hold a Covid loneliness
One of isolation and sadness
Exquisite creature, do you feel our pain
Or is the lonely soaring life
Your everyday normal
*****
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Grace asked us to us personification in our poem. Hawks are such magnificent creatures. I love when they come and visit me from time to time. This one was much closer than most, asserting his dominance of the territory perched next to my bird feeder. I can almost tell what he is thinking as he rests on my deck rail.
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com then click on Mr. Linkey to read more poems.
Molten winter sky
Peeks through a blanket of clouds
Tucson Sunset
*
Photo sent to me by my good friend Jim Kanagy who is enjoying the Tucson winter. Used with his permission.
This is not a painting
It is a living family history
Not just an abstract splash of color
But, a life’s journey
A story that began a lifetime ago
Moving 2500 miles to Alberta
Building a little house in the big woods
Raising his family near a Cree Indian village
By the shores of Calling Lake
*
This is a story of mid-life change
to the big city of Edmonton
Becoming a respiratory therapist
A new career of serving others
Retiring to a condo
*
Memory fading to dim
More than Mother can care for
Her brain tumor required attention
Care needed for both
*
End of like can be full of surprises
This is not a painting
It is our family’s story
Painting: Dwight L. Roth 1-2013
Today at d’Verse, Mish asked us to choose an object, that means something special to us, and write a poem beginning with the line… “This is not a _________” Eight years ago we flew to Edmonton, AB to make care arrangements for both of my wife’s parents. Her mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor and her father was suffering from Alzheimer’s. It was a traumatic time for all of us. When we finally returned home the end of January, I poured my emotions into this painting depicting their life in Alberta. To me, this is much more than a painting. It is a piece of family history!
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com …click on Mr. Linkey and read more poems.
Oh, the glorious memories of past days
Combing long flowing hair with swept back duck-tails
Smooth waves that would make a surfer gaze
Sadly the glory days leave only tales
But, I do remember the TV ad…
”Brylcreem… A little dab’ll do ya!”
Photo: Me in about the seventh grade!
Today at d’Verse, De Jackson is taking me into my past, asking us to write a Quadrille poem (exactly 44 words) with the word dab in it. When I as an adolescent, I had lots of hair. Brylcreem was my hair cream. It is amazing what you could do with it when combing it back into the Elvis Presley style duck-tail wave. Funny how the jingles never seem to leave your brain. 😎
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com …and click on the Mr. Linkey box to read more.
I saw this little bird outside my window a couple of years ago. He had a red spot showing on top of his head, which seemed very unusual. It was the first time I had seen this and have not seen it since. I am guessing it is a mating or territorial action. It was wonderful to be able to see this beautiful little bird.
Kinglet shows red spot
Fluffed up on an icy cold branch
Hoping she will see
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Wikapedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruby-crowned_kinglet
When ideology supersedes the common good
the cause becomes a righteous one;
Rhetoric gets substituted for truth
and action replaces common sense.
*
Trying to guard our constitutional rights
while neglecting our social contract…
“that all men are created equal”…
is a failure of moral responsibility.
*
If we are to survive as a country
we must show one another
respect and dignity
in the face of disagreement.
*
Without cooperation and compromise
our dreams get squelched by violence
as we implode on ourselves…
knowing WE are right!
Painting: Dwight L. Roth
My poem today was inspired by thoughts from John Paul Lederach’s Saturday news letter , The Pause.
John Paul Lederach
Senior Fellow at Humanity United and Professor Emeritus at the University of Notre Dame University.
Condor rises high
Above churning ocean waves
Others ride strong swells
*****
Rise above life’s ebb and flow
Find your true perspective there
Painting: Dwight L. Roth
Let us not become jaded
With reports of senseless violence
Brought to us in living color
Real time action like virtual reality
Worn across our eyes
*
Let us not become jaded
Thinking all is lost and evil has won
Don’t believe it do not fear
Brother helps sister when danger is near
*
Let us not become jaded
For love is not lost / truth will triumph
Tragedy brings unity
Realizing what is really important
We stand arm in arm and hand in hand
Knowing that in the end
Love Wins!
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Open link night at d’Verse. It is easy to become jaded with all that happens in the world around us. I have revised this piece from a couple of years ago, to remind us that truth is light and love is truth and Love wins!
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com then click on Mr. Linkey to read our poems.
Birds fly into my window from time to time crashing into a sky of glass and an image of illusion. Stunned they fall to the ground or circle back to the trees, only to do it over again on another sunny day. Being territorial they are trying to attack the illusion of another bird intruding into their territory, and only hurt themselves in the process.
Seems we are seeing this play out today in DC, as our Lame-Duck President continually tries to incite followers to attack the illusion of an intruder stealing his space. Over and over he keeps hitting the glass sky and is now looking like that stunned bird that hit my window.
Protesters gather
Attacking an illusion
Stunned bird thinks he won
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