Unwanted Treasures

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I believe meaning and purpose often dies with us. Emotions are very hard to pass on …except through genetic predispositions. So much is gone when one dies. A lifetime of memories and stories are left untold, while a few cherished moments and trauma live on …sometimes for generations.

I see it happening, when I volunteer at the Habitat Restore. Parents die leaving a houseful of keepsakes. A handful are saved, and our box truck brings us the rest. Stuff often loses meaning when passed from generation to generation. Young folks have their life, their own stuff; So, unwanted treasures from the past go to be sold to someone who will cherish them, and then perhaps they too will be passed on, resold, or discarded.

Our cherished treasures

full of memories long past

Help build new houses

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Note: Habitat for Humanity Restore is a place that takes donations of many kinds that are resold. The money is used to build new low-income houses for families who otherwise would not be able to afford one. In the past our store alone has taken in enough in one year to build ten new houses.

For more information: https://www.habitat.org/together-we-build?

Grooves of Progress

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Machines

groove through mud

tearing the landscape

Trees ripped out

Logs piled high

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Ground into chips

Shade becomes sunshine

Population increases

New developments spring up

in the blink of an eye

Muddy grooves replaced

with groovy rows of houses

“All made out of ticky-tacky…”

Today at d’Verse, we are in the groove with De Jackson.  She asked us to write a groovy poem for Quadrille Monday.

It greatly concerns me when I see the amount of development going on all around me. Houses being built five or ten at a time are popping up everywhere.  To do this, they clear-cut all the trees and grind them to shreds.  We cannot keep doing this, without irreparable damage to our environment.  The song at the end was popular back in the sixties during my college days. It is a hook that continues to run through my head.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

The Golden Spike

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After I retired from teaching elementary school, I spent a couple of years doing home repair. Then, I began a hands-on building construction class with our local community college. We partnered with Habitat for Humanity doing class instruction in the morning and helping build the new Habitat houses in the afternoon.
John was our site supervisor for the build. He worked well with us and encouraged the guys and girls to do their best. At the end of the eight week class, he gave each student a golden spike to help them remember what they learned in the class. I still have the spike he gave me hanging on my garage wall.

Teaching touches lives in ways we may never know
Measuring, cutting lumber, hammering nails;
Building houses, shaping lives, making memories…
John, the master builder, shared his knowledge and wisdom
At the end a golden spike for each student
Learning the importance of working together

Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse De Jackson asked us to write a Quadrille of 44 words and use the word spike in any form we choose. I chose the word spike as it is used in building.
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com