Lullaby

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Being adopted must be a traumatic experience for a little boy who started the first year of his life with a foster parent. This was the experience of my grandson. He was adopted into a family who spoke a different language, ate different food, and had other children. You can understand why he did not want his new parents to leave him at night. I wrote this as a lullaby that expresses some of the feelings that I imagined occurred during this time. He has since grown into a well adjusted little boy.

Sweet Baby Boy
Sweet baby boy just close your eyes
Go off to dreamland with a sigh
Sweet baby boy fly away
To worlds unknown beyond the eye
*
Sweet baby boy come to me now
With all your tears a crying
Sweet baby boy I’ll ease your fears
And soon you’ll be a sighin’
*
And when you wake I’ll be right here
Near you I’ll be lyin’
To keep you safe and let you know
This is your home where I am
*
Through tears and fears throughout the years
I’ll always be your Mother
And though you might not understand
There’ll never be another

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Painting by Dwight L. Roth

Jilly at d’Verse asked us to use repetition in our poetry today to bring emphasis to the poem. Sweet Baby Boy came to mind when I read this prompt. It is a song I wrote as a lullaby for my adopted grandson when he was adopted several years ago.

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Safe Harbor

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The thought of harboring our children in safe places came to mind, when Lillian at d’verse asked us to write a Quadrille of 44 words using the word harbor. It brought to mind two of my favorite songs: Teach Your Children Well  and Cat’s in the Cradle. With all the violence and mayhem going on around us, children no longer can feel safe, even while at school. Home should be that safe haven where our children need not fear and were loving relationships are the primary goal.

Harbor children well

In safe places // from the gale

Shower them with love’s rain

Watch them grow // unfurl their sail

Ships built strong // with loving care

Ready to face swells

Life’s hurricanes // and wind’s wails

Anchored by our care…

Harbor children’s souls with Love

 

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iPhone Photos: Dwight L. Roth

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Remembering our Heritage

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During WWII, after the bombing of Pearl Harbor by Japan, fear ran rampant in the country. It was during this time that anyone of Japanese descent was rounded up and put into camps in different parts of the country. When the war ended they are again allowed to return to the general population. My friend Jean’s parents were put in one of these camps. After she was born she was told about the experiences during that time. Jean, who now lives in Canada, is very proud of her heritage. She loves to sew quilts, lap quilts and quilted wall hangings. This is a beautiful wall hanging she made out of respect for her parents and her Japanese heritage.

Heritage displayed

Stories of the past remembered well

Shared with words and thread

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

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This is Jean and her husband Dave 

 

All Alone

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Many years ago I went through a very difficult time in my life. Everything was turned upside down and I did not know which way to turn. Nothing helped. It was during this time that I felt like Job…lost and alone. So, like Job I questioned God. asking why I did not find help in my time of need. I, unlike Job, did not get a scathing reply, but in time things did level out and life was as good as it ever was before.

WHERE WERE YOU GOD?
WHERE WERE YOU GOD // WHEN I NEEDED YOU MOST
WHEN MY LIFE COLLAPSED AND MY LIFE TURNED BLACK?

GOD // WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I EXPECTED THAT YOU CARED
WHEN I BELIEVED // I TRUSTED // AND THOUGHT YOU HEARD?

WHERE WAS THE PROMISED PEACE OF MIND…
THAT THROUGH DIFFICULT TIMES I DID NOT FIND?

WHEN I WALKED THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH
I FEARED EVERY EVIL // I FELT ALL THE PAIN

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I CRIED OUT IN PAIN
WHEN I PLEADED // I BEGGED // AND CALLED YOUR NAME?

WHEN I HURT SO BAD I WISHED I COULD DIE,
WERE YOU THERE TO SEE // DID YOU HEAR MY CRY?

I COULD NOT TELL // I FELT LEFT TO FATE…
WITH NO WAY TO HELP // BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE

WOULD ALL THAT HAPPENED, HAVE HAPPENED ANYWAY
OR WERE YOU THERE // WHAT DO YOU SAY?

WHERE WERE YOU GOD, WHEN I NEEDED YOU MOST?

~1995~

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Frank, at d’Verse asked us to write a poem about frustration, disappointment or heartbreak.   Come join in with all the fun.

https://dversepoets.com

Fearing Dragons

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There was a time when people believed

Dragons roamed the earth…

Breathing fire and reeking havoc

Might they remember dinosaurs of a different era

Or Alligators lurking in swamps // waiting

Today we know the only fire breathing dragons

Are manmade for purposes of destruction

*****

Yet people still believe in dragons

Dragons of self-doubt // burning away success

Dragons of self-pity // feeling sorry for ones condition

Dragons of trauma // ghosts from the past

Fearful fire breathing dragons of the mind

The only person who can slay these dragons

Is YOU

 

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Dragon at Dunrovin  Store in NC

 

 

Birds Give Me Hope

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Birds Give Me Hope

When the world around us spins out of control

Feeling all is lost // feeling fear’s on a roll

Just look out the window // watch the birds

Coming and going without a word

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Red ones // blue ones // yellow and brown

Eating seeds from the feeder // as some eat off the ground

Songs always follow as they sit on a limb

Raising their voices // like they’re singing a hymn

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Watching out for each other with a harsh warning call

Knowing danger to one is danger to all

Some birds are pests // just like us humans

Predators and freeloaders always fuming

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But in the end // they all live as one

In their woodland communities when the day is done

Continuing on with nests full of young ones

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They have no king //no queen nor president

But they all live together each one is a resident

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Too bad we can’t live like birds // caring for our own

Focusing on what’s really important // letting life go on

In the end they seem to realize //there is a place for all

To live // to grow // to follow their call

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Take hope from the birds //learn a great lesson

Peace and harmony comes // when we stop the aggression

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Letter to My Adopted Grandson

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Our prompt from Bjorn at d”verse, is to write a letter to someone in poetic form.  I wrote this for my grandson who was adopted when he was a year and a half.  It is written from his new mother’s perspective, and addresses his emotional struggles and insecurities that came with such a transition. It is a lullaby, which I recorded, but could also serve as a letter. He has adjusted and is doing very well.

Sweet Baby Boy

Sweet baby boy just close your eyes

Go off to dreamland with a sigh

Sweet baby boy fly away

To worlds unknown beyond the eye

*

Sweet baby boy come to me now

With all your tears a cryin’

Sweet baby boy I’ll ease your fears

And soon you’ll be a sighin’

*

And when you wake I’ll be right here

Near you I’ll be lyin’

To keep you safe and let you know

This is your home where I am

*

Through tears and fears throughout the years

I’ll always be your Mother

And though you might not understand

There’ll never be another

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*For my grandson who was adopted when he was a year and a half old. 

Come join us at d’Verse~Poetry Pub:  https://dversepoets.com/

Earth’s Sleeping Giant

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Visiting the ocean is like visiting a sleeping volcano! No one expects either to blow when we are looking from the edge. But, the ocean like the volcano should never be taken for granted. They can both erupt with tremendous power in a very short time. I wrote this poem when Hurricane Matthew came blowing up the coast. The Sleeping giant rolled over and woke up for a time and those in its path paid the price.

The Sleeping Giant

A Sleeping Giant

Lies breathing between continents

In and out its chest rises and falls

A Shrek of a guy most of the time

Children and adults float

Bouncing on his crest

Squealing with delight

On bubbles of air

But beware

Of the Ides of October

When tossing and turning

Nightmares return

Thrashing coughing

Scaring all who once played on his chest

Fear and trepidation

Waters rise

Winds howl

Floods come up

Big Blow AKA Matthew

Brings Halloween early

All Tricks

No Treats

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Scars

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Scars

“Forgive and forget…”

An unforgivable cliché

Scars climb into the coffin with us

Lying there, embedded into our souls

A lasting part of who we have become…

Some visible and obvious…

Others not so much so

Forgiveness does not erase scars

It only allows us to heal and go on

Giving us the strength to live above the pain.

Scars that do not heal bring death

Soul stirring pain so deep and so sharp

That we can bear it no more.

Go lightly on that soul

Who chooses his fate,

Unlike the rest of us who wait

For fate to come knocking .

Fear of making a choice keeps many

Dead while living …

Enduring, waiting, wondering

Bearing the scars alone

Wishing for the end

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Photo: Dwight l. Roth

Ichabod

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Halloween is a holiday of conflicting views. Some see it as evil and want no part of it. For kids it is a fun time to dress up in costumes and go door to door collecting treats and being frightened by imaginary ghosts.

Many of us remember Washington Irving’s story of Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. During the past presidential campaign I wrote this prophetic poem about the race that was taking place. While everyone was writing Trump off, I thought their message of his demise was very premature. As we all know my prophesy turned out to be true.

The Headless Horseman of the Apocalypse

Riding through the dark night of the soul

Comes a headless horseman on a silver steed

Snorting fire and ashes he rides with great speed

No one can stop the galloping Spector

No one dare be so bold

As the ghastly night round him grows cold

Not Donkey nor Elephant, not Fox nor Hound

He defies all those who would slow him down

Many have tried and many have failed

Some have screamed and some have yelled

But nothing can stop the apocalyptic wail

Out of the swamp through the fog of night

Rides the Headless Horseman of the Apocalypse

Leaving all in a fright and some in delight

He comes charging the bridge in full moonlight

Not a myth not a tale nor a short lived wail

Will rise up to challenge with ghastly pale

The pending disaster that rides on his tail

In the morning sun he’ll surely be restricted

His demise not true as many souls predicted

He’s here for now and he’ll be for a spell

This wild man with no head has tales to tell

The powers tried to slow him down

As he rode in that midnight hour

But the pumpkin wielding warrior

Simply brought scare and horror

To politicians and voters far and wide

Bringing chaos and confusion

Now all is lost the pumpkin is cast

He won’t stop till that last bridge is crossed

Leaving the frightened and scared in his wake

Riding full speed ahead into the dark night

The deal at the crossroad is sealed

Things will never again be the same

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth