Ancient sea beds convulsing // rise into tall peaks
born of mud and salt water // as ancient stories
exposed slowly wear away // inevitably
with earth’s constant climate change // not controlled by man
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Laura has us writing a Japanese form of poetry called Imayo, withe our prompt being Rocks.
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This picture of Kananaskis Falls in the Canadian Rockies came across my Facebook feed this week. I loved the photo and wanted to see if I could paint it. It cooled down to the 80s F today so I decided to go out in my garage and see what I could do. This was the result.
Nature’s balance of
awesome beauty and color
Hiding in mountains
***
Callin us to come visit
Enjoy this breathing view
Watercolor Painting : Dwight L. Roth
Barbara loved the early morning, just before the sunrise. It always took her back in time to her High School years when she had to catch the bus at seven in the morning for the long twenty-mile ride to school.
She always liked sitting by the window so she could look out and watch the changes as Nature painted its canvas with hues of red, orange, yellow, and then blue. But she especially liked the mornings when the moon hung low on the horizon. On those days she loved imagining the moon as more than a big chunk of rock reflecting sunlight. In her mind she thought, “An early moon is just a piece of change in the softening sky.”
Now she sits on her porch with her morning coffee watching the sun and moon playing games with each other above the mountains.
Photo and Painting: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Merril gave us a prosery prompt. We are to write prose (flash fiction of 144 words) instead of poetry, but we must include a given line from a poem that she has chosen. The line is: “An early moon is just a piece of change in the softening sky.” from — James Masao Mitsui, “Spring Poem for the Sake of Breathing, Written After a Walk to Foster Island”
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As the moon silently rises
Gently cradled in mountain peaks
Fields glow in the dark light of night
Shadows hide under tall oak trees
*
Barn roof turns a light shade blue
As the moon silently rises
Swallows sleep in mud nests on beams
Young must wait till morning for food
*
Moon light plays on mountain ridges
Highlights give off a ghostly glow
As the moon silently rises
And night creatures are on the prowl
*
Like a pearl set in bluestone
Beauty radiates from her orb
Capturing the minds of lovers
As the moon silently rises
***
Watercolor painting done today: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Grace introduced an interesting prompt called a Quatern. It is set of four quatrains in which the first line refrain becomes the second, third, and fourth lines in each of the following verses. It also has only eight syllables in each line.
Since I was experimenting with watercolors today, I decided to use my painting and do an ekphrastic poem describing the painting.
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Pisgah National Forest
Water roars over Looking Glass Falls
Thunder booms… Lighting flashes
Tons of shale hang out over the falls
unfazed by natures fury
*****
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
This is a poem I wrote a year or two ago. I reworked it and added to it so I could present it for an upcoming Old Mountain Press Anthology. I got word today that it has been accepted.
Today. a friend of mine posted these beautiful fall photos on his Facebook page. They were so beautiful I asked him if I could share them on my blog. He generously agreed. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have, along with the Haiku I wrote.
Photos: Thanks to Gary Smucker
This is a watercolor that painted itself. I put on the color and let it run and then blended a few more colors and low and behold this is what came out! My Bob Ross in watercolor! It is a little dark, but I love color so I tend to get it a little intense! practice practice practice!
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`Watercolor Painting: Dwight L. Roth
Painting : Dwight L. Roth
The story of George the old hunter continues … trapped in a blizzard… while hunting in the mountains….
The cave extended back about eight feet, with a ceiling only around four feet high. It was just wide enough so that George could comfortably turn around and stretch out in. Now that he had stopped moving the chill began to set in on him. He was glad for his hooded hunting jacket that offered some comfort, but not enough to feel warm. The evaporating sweat from his climb down the mountain only served to chill him even more.
Darkness was setting in as the snow continued to fall gently creating a wonderful world of white. George knew he must work quickly to get settled for the long night ahead. He had several matches, but they would not provide any lasting light. He took out his last granola bar and ate only half of it, although his stomach was empty and growling. He did the same with his last bottle of water. He knew he would need the rest in the morning for his journey back to his truck in the valley below.
A cold chill was coming through his jeans. George decided to pile the dry leaves in the cave over his legs to help insulate them just a little. Exhausted from his climb down the mountain, so he propped his 30-30 against the back of the cave and tried to get as comfortable as possible. It wasn’t long untill he drifted off to sleep.
*****
As the winter storm outside continued, George slept fitfully. His dreams came and went, some leaving him very unsettled. Just as he drifted off once more, he heard a frightful scream in the distance beyond the hollow. Immediately he recognized that sound as a mountain lion. They roamed these mountains and were usually illusive of people. Unless cornered, they kept their distance.
Thoughts raced through George’s mind. The sound was not far away; and from what George could tell, it was moving closer. He wondered if the mountain lion was also looking for his cave to find shelter from the storm. He sat up, took the safety off his rifle and laid his 30-30 across his lap.
He could not see much in the dark, although the snow offered a shadow of light at the mouth of the cave. Chills of a different kind ran up and down George’s spine, as the guttural sounds of the mountain lion came closer and closer to the mouth of the cave. George knew he had no choice, so propping his elbows on his knees he brought the 30-30 to his shoulder and waited.
*****
George could now hear the heavy breathing of the creature outside his cave. He checked to make sure his gun was ready. The cat stopped just beyond the entrance. Was she picking up George’s scent from inside the cave? He could hear her creeping forward on the snow covered ground.
George knew this was it. With his finger on the trigger he kept his eyes focused on the dim light at cave opening! The mountain lion’s head obscured the light at the cave entrance. She gave a loud snarl when she saw George in her den. George held his breath and squeezed the trigger. There was a deafening boom from the rifle!
George woke with a start in a cold sweat! It seemed so real. He checked, and his 30-30 was still standing propped against the cave wall. As he looked towards the entrance George could see all was quiet as the snow gently fell all around.
For the beginning of the story scroll down through the blog page to the previous posts on The Climb or click below:
For a free pdf. file copy of the whole story, email me at: dwru27@aol.com
With all that is going on in the world, it may seem like we are living on a rocky mountainside waiting to slide. But above it all our spirits can rise and soar if we stop and take time to look at the bigger picture. There is more to life that just sitting and waiting for the worst. Enjoy every moment you have with family and friends. Do your best to make the world a better place. An act of kindness is never too small, and a grateful spirit will carry you on eagles wings!
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Posted for Open Link night at d’Verse Poets Pub
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Roth Poetry 