The Patience of a Seed

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The patience of a seed lies in waiting
Knowing that at the opportune time
It will germinate, push out a root, and grow.
Too much sun will dry it up;
Too much rain will drown it // make it rot;
And, soil too hard will not let it take root;
Only when the combination of soil, light, and moisture
Is perfect will it grow and produce leaves and fruit.
Our life is much the same // waiting
For the opportune time to grow and shine.
The difficulty is always in the waiting;
Avoiding the scorching light of flattery and praise
Don’t get carried away by the storms of life
Take root in the rich soil of people who love you
Be patient // like a seed… humble and strong;
You’ll know when your time has come.

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Rock and Cedar

What exciting times // earth trembled // lifted
Oceans became mountains // vertigo rocks
“There’s a whole lotta shakin’ going on”
Crusty rumblings while continents shifted
Ocean sands oozed into valleys //magma cooled
Rocks crumbled as earth played musical chairs;
Boulders break off //tumble like drunk men
Finding a resting place as waters pooled
Tree-covered landscapes rooted in new soil
Former plants were buried beneath the shale
Digesting and ruminating for years
Becoming black liquid gold we call oil
Rock that rested a thousand years or more
Catches thorny cedars on creek bank shores


Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Lillian, at d’Verse, asked us to continue our work with writing imagery in the Rubaiyat form. She wants us to add images and descriptions using our five plus one senses. Kinesthetic added  to the list. This involves the feeling one gets when spinning or tumbling out of control.

Join us at:


Life’s Pattern


Life’s Pattern

Our life’s a pattern of carefully laid stone

Each laid with care to show a place we owned

My life is built of corners hewn four-square

One layer on layer a box to grow to share

Young trees of green in soil dark find root

A life of sculpted stones well hewn bears fruit

 New bricks in pavement of carefully laid stone


Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse Frank asked us to write a poem in Iambic Pentameter. This is new for me so here is my attempt.  Join us at:


Dwight's Potatoes on Shenandoah Street 001


There’s something about dirt that draws me

The smell of freshly turned earth

Not just one but many tickling my olfactory

Clay and loam hillside and bottom land

All have a unique smell

Better than the smell is my memory

Of running through the freshly disked field

Feeling the fresh dirt under my feet

Squeezing between my toes

Pushing the cultivator to make straight rows

Following my father as he plants tomatoes

With a bucket of water and a soup can

One can for each new plant

Then there’s the smell of the dirt as we dig potatoes

An unexplainable earthy smell just for that moment

Amazing dirt jumpstarts beans and peas

Pushing their roots deep as the green shoots emerge

Corn shoots the size of a split pen point  grow tall

Standing eight feet high with green ears of gold

Some like to substitute sterile potting soil for dirt

Spongy peat wood fiber that holds no water

I much prefer real dirt with clay and rocks and sand


Photo: Ruth A. Roth