First Grade Impressions

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Teachers thrive on order…
When I was young on my first day of school
One little boy cried tears to fill a pool
The classroom was a scary place that day
Marching in line // no time to poke or play
Our small wooden desks were in long straight lines
Like staunch rigid backbones of long straight spines
Evenly spaced with seats that folded down
Waiting for life where none was to be found
Not a soul whispered //no one made a sound
We all sat stiff and rigid as the teacher made her rounds
Every child’s little heart was now beating fast
I wondered in my mind if this would last
Turns out I’m not made for rigid rows of desks
nor for all those difficult tests
I seem to have one foot outside the box
With a mind running free to write my thoughts

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse we are looking at the word order and applying it to poetry. Lara asked us to write a poem that reflects how we feel about order.  I have never been one to stay inside the lines so order for me has always been difficult as you see in my poem above. You can see First Grade in school made quite an impression on me!

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Taking Down Memories

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Today I took the ornaments off of my Christmas tree, and packed them back in the box, to store until next year. I enjoyed looking again at each ornament, remembering that many of them came from my former elementary school students. Some I remembered; others had names on them. You may think an ornament is an insignificant gift, but mine have hung on my tree every year since 1970.

Gifts bring back mem’ries

Each one was a warm spot in my heart

Winter of my life

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Goat School

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Once upon a time this goat shed held children;
A place for learning where my father taught.
Filled with desks, chairs, and cute Amish youngins’
All eight grades in one room was quite a lot.
King School //a microcosm of learning
Shaped teachers, preachers, and cute farmers’ wives.
For some, eight grades met their need for farming;
Where they worked the land the rest of their lives.
Time moved on and so have all the students;
Who never imagined what was in store.
For their little one room school house wouldn’t
Last forever // in time // would be no more
A shed for goats in the shell that is left;
Sheds no more light on America’s best.

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Lillian at d’Verse, asked us to think about the many meanings of the word shed;  and write a poem of our choice. It is sad to see the school where my father started his teaching career turn into a goat shed. I attempted to write a sonnet expressing some of those feelings.

Come join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Christmas Memories

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I started teaching in 69

Fourth and Fifth graders were just fine

As each Christmas rolled around

Small gifts on my desk I found

Ornaments for my tree

Saved throughout the years

Now my tree’s filled with memories

Of smiling faces and good cheer

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

A quadrille of 44 words today for the d’Verse Poetry Pub. De Jackson asked us to write using the word Cheer. The ornaments given to me by my students bring me cheer each Christmas as I put them on our tree.

Join us at d’Verse:  https://dversepoets.com

Back to School

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Big yellow school bus

Carried us to school each day

Down county back roads

Every child learned to write cursive

French was the foreign language

Girls preoccupied our minds

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Lillian, at d’Verse, asked us to think about going back to school and then write a poem of six lines about the a b c’s. We had to pick any six letters of the alphabet in sequential order, and write  a poem about school. The ornament above was given to me by one of my students back in 1982.

Join us at: https:  dversepoets.com

My Pop

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If my father were living today he would be 105. This post is a tribute to him and the life he enjoyed. We children all called him Pop. He loved people and never knew a stranger. One of his favorite things was working in the garden. This photo shows him helping me dig my potatoes back in the early 1970. He died at the age of seventy. That seems very early to me, especially since I will turn seventy next month. He was a joy to all who knew him. He always tried to encourage and inspire others. He was a minister and pastor almost all of his life. We all miss him greatly. He has not been forgotten!

Photo:  Dwight L. Roth