Old Musicians

Old musicians die

But their music lives on

Beautiful tributes

To the power they harnessed

That changed the world

Challenged politics

Social Norms

And, brought about revolutions

Music that touches the soul

Reaches all the way to Heaven

And Hell

Yes, old musicians die

But their music is alive and well

Today at d’Verse, it is open link night. Linda, our host talked about her love for the Beatles and the Rolling Stones when she was young. Some musicians that we enjoyed have passed on for various reasons. John Lennon’s music Imagine will last into the next generation and beyond. I loved country music, which lost a number of its iconic singers early in life. I think of Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, Jim Reeves, who died in their prime. Buddy Holly also left us way too soon. Even so, their music lives on. This poem is a tribute to them.

I painted my old Harmony guitar a few years ago. I found it many years ago at a yard sale, coming apart at the seams. I glued it back together and it works fine. It was one you could have ordered from the Sears and Roebuck Catalogue back in the 1950s. I laid the guitar on the canvas and traced it off full size and then painted it.

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Photo: Ruth Roth

Mother

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Sweet bluebird // a magical beauty
Perched on the rod outside my window.
Tiny sharp talons gripped tightly.
Seeing her reflection on the surface;
She flung herself at the image;
Thinking it to be another female.
This is her territory…
Guarded fiercely at all cost!

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Linda asked us to write a Quadrille of 44 words, using a form of the word magic.

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Alfalfa Hay

baling hay

 

What is that wonderful smell

Drifting from field to window

Driving through the Pennsylvania countryside?

It is the smell of new mown hay…

Alfalfa drying in the summer sunshine.

Aroma like mint tea leaves crushed between fingers

Overpowering the rich smells coming from

The cow manure flying from the spreader

Still pulled by Amish horses a century later.

Alfalfa hay raked and baled filling hay mows…

Favorite of cows and heifers on cold winter days.

Green turned to white and hauled away

In a bulk tank truck for our breakfast table

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Photo: from the family album

At d’Verse poetry group today Bjorn asked that we think about scents in our poetry today. Having worked on my uncle’s farm for five summers as a teenager, I have a great appreciation for the scent of new mown hay. Alfalfa was the hay of choice in Pennsylvania. This smell always takes me back to the farming days of the early 1960s. The photo above comes from that era.

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A Hershey Bar Day

Doug&Buick

A Hershey Bar Day

Cousin Doug’s Pay Day came today

After sixty plus years //and minus a few sweet curls.

He was a cute baby perched on the hood

Munching that cookie in his little Butter Fingers

Birthdays come and go each year

Chuckles for some // Snickers for others

But for us who are seniors // we get no Kix

Awaiting our preplanned Milky Way trip

Birthdays // reminders of times gone by

Living on Fifth Avenue next to old Mr. Goodbar

Just down the street from the neighborhood Mars Bar

Screaming Baby Ruth was really adorable

Oh, Henry // He was a pistol with the boys next door

Those 3 Musketeers  are chasing Kit Kat again

Till she coughed up that hairball of Charleston Chew

Our knees now Krackle and our stomachs Mound

As we count the years Twix  fat and thin

For better and for worse // we have no choice

Waiting for that birthday to come around again

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Photo:  from our Family Album

Today Lillian, at d’Verse suggested we “noodle” with candy bar names and write them into a poem. We had the choice of Candy, Perfume, or Cereal. Since this was my cousin Doug’s birthday today I decided to include him in my fictional poem. How many candy bars can you count in my poem?

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Footprints of History

Graveyard at Historic Halifax 001

When I was teaching school years ago, we took many field trips. In this photo my students were taking a walking tour of Historic Halifax in North Carolina. A guide explained each thing as we walked. Here we are viewing the crypts of the some of the persons who lived here back during the Revolutionary War period. The Halifax Resolves predated the Declaration of Independence in rejecting British rule and claiming independence. That is why our license plates have  First In Freedom on them.

Footprints of our past

Encased in stone and concrete

Students look and learn

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Bjorn asked us to write a Haibun about walking for our Monday Haibun at d’Verse.

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Chickens

Egg Baskets

Chickens ( a Quadrille)

I grew up with the chickens

Clucking // pecking // laying eggs

Raising a ruckus when frightened

Gathering around my legs at feeding time

White Leghorn hens

Producing and egg a day

Gathered warm // from straw nests

Into a woven round basket

Food for the table

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Egg Basket Photo: fancyblogspot.com

Today’s prompt from Lillian, at d’Verse Poetry Pub is the word gather. We are to write a Quadrille of exactly 44 words for this prompt. I chose to write about the chickens of my childhood.

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Imaginary Bike Ride

Come ride with me on my

Imaginary blue bicycle

Dream catcher circles

Petals floating in the breeze

Peddles that never go round

Red roses hover on unpruned stems

Baskets confining plastic pots

Pink Petunias’ toxic effervesce

Fragrance of spring

Close your eyes // smell the sunshine

Just remember…

Thorns change dreams to reality

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Lillian, at d’Verse, gave us five photos to pick from to write using the theme “Sunnyside Up“. Anything related to the joyous coming of Spring and all the new life it brings.  I liked the colorful blue stationary bike, so this is my Sunnyside Up poem.

Come join us at d’Verse, pick a picture and write your ode to spring!

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Crunch

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When we landed in Edmonton, the temperature was -17 C. Coming from North Carolina, this was quite a shock. Breathing felt like I was trying to freeze my air sacs. We enjoyed that Christmas with family and friends We even got used to the cold temperatures. The crystals that formed on the kitchen window were fabulous. This poem is a Quadrille of 44 words that reflects on that winter in Canada.

City lights twinkle

In darkness twenty below

Shoppers rush to stores

Arms full cheeks aglow

Christmas Eve arrives

Must find one last gift tonight

Boots laced to the top

Wool scarf around my neck tight

Step into the wind

New snow crunches under foot

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Posted for dVerse Poets – Quadrille -44 word post with the word, CRUNCH.
Hosted by De Jackson.  This is my first Quadrille.

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