POETRY DEDICATION PROJECT

by Thomas Berger

Dedicated to my grandmother, Trish Hartline

A grandmother is a

little bit parent, a little

bit teacher, and a little

bit best friend.

When I learned of this project for my Creative Writing class, I knewimmediately that I was going to honor my grandmother Patricia Hartline.Known affectionately as “Gammy,” she is a woman of many interests, andmany talents. While I have touched on many of them on the followingpages, Gammy also served as my English Learning Coach throughout mostof my days at PA Virtual. A keen knowledge of grammar, usage, andmechanics makes her the consummate teacher of all things wordy. She hadher hands full with me, as I am not a fan of anything having to withreading or writing. But she miraculously found ways to instill herknowledge, the least of which included the question, “Who?” when I would use“me” instead of “I” in a sentence.

Outside of the classroom, I have enjoyed countless hours with Gammyworking in the garden, playing with the trains, building in my late great-Grandpop’s wood shop, volunteering in the Food Pantry at Boyertown AreaMulti-Service, traveling to places far and wide, and annually relaxing at thebeach house in Cape May. The memories we have made together are many,and I am so blessed for each and every one of them. As I prepare forgraduation, I look forward to making more memories with her in the years tocome!

~ author unknown

DEDICATION…

SatisfiedIt matters not what be thy lot,So Love doth guide;For storm or shine, pure peace is thine,Whate'er betide.

And of these stones, or tyrants' thrones,God able isTo raise up seed—in thought and deed—To faithful His.

Aye, darkling sense, arise, go hence!Our God is good.False fears are foes—truth tatters those,When understood.

Love looseth thee, and lifteth me,Ayont hate's thrall:There Life is light, and wisdom might,And God is All.

The centuries break, the earth-bound wake,God's glorified!Who doth His will—His likeness still—Is satisfied.

~ Mary Baker Eddy

On “Satisfied”…

I chose to place this piece first in my project since I know it to be your favorite writing by MaryBaker Eddy. Over the years, you have shared many of the teachings of Christian Science withme, first as my occasional Sunday School teacher, and later as advice in every day conversation.I believe that this poem is an excellent summary of those teachings. The speaker of this poem isthe poet herself, Ms. Eddy, and in it she shares her thoughts regarding a relationship with God -allowing Him to lead and be at the center of all things in your life. It is written in five quatrains,with the last, “Who doth His will – His likeness still – Is satisfied,” summing up this theme. When welive as created in the likeness of God, then things will be as they should be, or satisfied. Some ofthe unique features of this poem include Ms. Eddy capitalizing her words as similes for God – “SoLove doth guide,” “Love looseth me,” “There Life is light.” Another is that each quatrain is writtenin iambic fashion with four metric feet in lines one and three, and two metric feet in lines two andfour. This gives the piece a nice flow, which is why I believe it was later easily set to music as ahymn. In the line “False fears are foes-truth tatters those,” we see the use of the literary elementof alliteration, where consonant sounds are repeated. Finally, this piece is abundant with rhyme.The rhyme scheme, or pattern of end-rhymes, is A,B,C,B, meaning that lines two and four rhyme –guide/betide, is/His, good/understood/,thrall/all, glorified/satisfied. There are also internal rhymesin lines one and three. These are rhymes within the same line – not/lot, shine/thine,stones/thrones, seed/deed, sense/hence, foes/those, thee/me, light/might, break/wake, will/still.

Starting OverThe garden’s winter is so bleak,

Snow lays all about the ground.

It arrives without a sound -

Blanketing all that is very meek,

Except for those who have moved on.

The birds they’ve flown to places warm,

A new stage on which to perform.

Songs of joy with them have gone.

But at last the sun, it melts the snow.

The time has come for us to go -

Out to the garden, prepare for spring,

Soon to bloom, with colors bright.

The birds return and begin to sing,

And fill our hearts with delight.

I made me gardens

and orchards, and I

planted trees in them

of all kind of fruits.

by Thomas Berger

Ecclesiastes 2:5 (KJV)

On “Starting Over”…

Starting over. That’s what you did the day great-Grandpop tried toplant his rose bush. Who knew that the strike of his shovel against theslate in the ground would lead to a beautiful formal garden? Adesolate area stretching along the driveway – overgrown andunkempt. But that shovel strike piqued your curiosity and you knewthere had to be more. Next thing you found yet another mission tobind us all together. It took years of uncovering, but in the end yougave the garden new life, a fresh start. Through numerous seasons, ithas tied together countless generations, past and present. Thegarden boasts signs of all of us…great-Grandpop’s boots by hisfavorite bench, the outhouse shed that you and Kenny built,decorative iron pieces chosen with care by Mom, the arbor Dadcreated, plants from Uncle Skip, and of course the frog pond youand I restored together. The garden is a place where we spend timewith each other ~ whether it be working hard in its maintenance,letting our creativity loose in painting a silly tree root snake, orfrolicking (or is it whining? ) as we uncover hidden clues in theannual Easter egg hunt. Because it is a central part of your life, andyou have made it part of mine, I choose to honor it in a poem.

The Frog Pond

2013

When You Walk Through the Woods

When you walk through the woods, I want you to see ... The floating gold of a bumble bee,

Rivers of sunlight, pools of shade Toadstools sleeping in mossy jade

A cobweb net with a catch of dew Treetop cones against the blue

Dancing flowers, bright green flies And birds that put rainbows in your eyes.

When you walk through the woods, I want you to hear ... A million sounds in your eager ear

The scratch and rattle of wind-tossed trees The rush as a timid chipmunk flees

The cry of a hawk from the distant sky The purr of leaves when a breeze rolls by

Brooks that mumble, stones that ring And birds that teach your heart to sing.

When you walk through the woods, I want you to feel ... That no mere human could make this real

Could paint the throb of a bullerfly's wing Could teach a wood thrush how to sing

Could create these wonders of earth and sky There's something greater than you or I.

When you walk through the woods and the birches nod Please, meet a friend of mine named God.

~ author unknown

On “When You Walk Through the Woods”…

I wanted to include a piece that spoke of my experiences in the Boy Scouts of America. It has

been a huge part of my life, and you were by my side, supporting me, from the day I attended

by first Tiger meeting, all the way through to the day I was award the Eagle Rank. I found this

poem in a Boy Scout site, and as part of a Scoutmaster’s Minute, it credits no author. It appeals

to the Boy Scout in me because it speaks of walking through the woods, which I have done many

times on my Scouting journey. The more I read it, I realized that the speaker seems to be talking

to a child, reminiscent of the way that you would talk to me when I was younger, pointing out all

that there is to see if you take the time to look for it. And finally, it tells a story of God’s wondrous

creation. The author paints a vivid picture of nature evoking many senses. Your sense of sight is

aroused in the description of the moss as being jade, the blue of the sky that the treetop cones

can be found against, birds of all colors that put rainbows in your eyes. Your sense of hearing is

awakened in the description of the cry of a hawk and the purr of leaves. In the end, it all is knit

together when the speaker introduces the audience to God – “Please, meet a friend of mine

named God.” It is written in the style of a couplet, meaning that the rhyme scheme is AA,BB,CC,

and every two lines have an end rhyme. I feel that the meter, or beat of the poem, reflects the

feel of walking through the woods, taking one step, followed by another.

Ode to Cape May

The hum of the tires soothes me into slumber

As we begin the long awaited journey

Awakened midway by shouts of children

We stop for respite and sustenance

Such pleasure to unfold and stretch my legs

Not much further to seagulls and sea air

~ Thomas Berger

Thomas, age 10

The acquainted aroma of the beach house

Brings back memories of summers gone by

Leisurely unpacking each know their part

The futon goes flat, the trundle rolls out

The beds are made, the refrigerator filled

Vacation has officially begun

Kenny

Dad

Me

MomJune 2005

“Off to the zinnia lady!” is the cry

Will she still be there, is the question

Pedaling with guarded anticipation

Around the corner to appreciate

The bright and vibrant colors of the little plot

A tradition soon to grace our table

Finally the sand is beneath my toes

Aware of its warmth and forgiving feel

Until the water rushes to meet it

With creatures that live beneath the sea

Mixed in the white foam float in and out

Leaving behind colorful remnants of the ocean

August 2009

Thomas, age 3

A castle rises from the gritty landscape

They carefully encourage it to take shape

Assorted buckets and tools at their command

Create towers, turrets, walls, and moat

Shiny pebbles and shells adorn the fortress

As it awaits its fate and the tide rises

2010

July 2006

Thomas, age 2

So much to do and the time is fleeting

Long walks on the Promenade, mini golf

The arcade with its lights and sounds

Henry’s, Bill’s, Louie’s or the Dry Dock?

Sunrise at the Point, or lack of such

Jigsaw puzzles and burgers on the grill

2009

Thomas, age 16

2011

Before we know it we are in reverse

Cleaning, packing, loading up

A few last pictures, “Mom, no more!”

The tires begin their familiar hum

And I am once again asleep

Only to wake, counting the days ‘til next year!

Thomas, age 15

2005

On “Ode To Cape May”…

We have belted out the familiar resort tune every summer (except

for one) for each of my 18 years. The 1994 trip even had to wait

until after my August birth day, but cancelling was not an option.

The annual retreat to the Jersey Shore was a tradition started prior

to my existence, but is something I look forward to each and

every year (yes, even though I can’t seem to make up my mind if

I am going - that’s the beauty of me!). We have created so

many memories and it is honestly all thanks to you. At first the trip

entailed transporting numerous of sand toys, dump trucks,

buckets, shovels, and front end loaders to play in the giant sand

box. Now that I am older, the load is less, but we still build our

castles in the sand. Time spent walking on the beach is peppered

with trips to the arcade, pizza at Louie’s, breakfast at McGlade’s,

ice cream at the Dry Dock, bike rides here and there, and

assembling jigsaw puzzles. In my “Ode to Cape May” I wanted to

share those memories with you as a way of saying, “Thank you

Gam!” Oh, and are we there yet?

Thomas snoozing the beach

2005

Bleezer’s Ice Cream

I am Ebenezer Bleezer,I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,

there are flavors in my freezeryou have never seen before,twenty-eight divine creations

too delicious to resist,why not do yourself a favor,

try the flavors on my list:

by Jack Prelutsky

Eat dessert first…

…you might not

have room for it

later.

~ quote by my Gammy

I am Ebenezer Bleezer,I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,

taste a flavor from my freezer,you will surely ask for more.

Life is like an ice-

cream cone, you

have to lick it one

day at a time.

~ Charles M. Schultz

On “Bleezer’s Ice Cream”…

SERIOUSLY! Could this poem be any more fun? I came across it completely by accident and I am gladI did. Ice cream – something you and I share on regular occasions! Bleezer’s Ice Cream is simply anonsensical poem, with really no point other than to make you laugh. Obviously, the speaker is goodold Ebenezer himself, and he is trying to get your to taste one of his so-called “delicious” flavors. While itwas not laid out as such online, I believe it was written in three quatrains and fourteen couplets. The firstand last quatrains are very similar with an A,B,A,B rhyme scheme, and the first is an almost exact repeatof the last where Ebeneezer introduces himself. The second quatrain appropriately changes to anA,B,C,B rhyme scheme, when you are invited to try one of the flavors. Each of the couplets are thenames of the ice cream flavors themselves, and are written as AA,BB,CC, etc. While my descriptionmakes it sound as if the piece is all over the place, the actual poem lends itself well as a song. SingerNatalie Merchant put the poem to music and included it on one of her albums – check it out athttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruzHHtd7cFM. You can’t help but tap your toes when listening. Theinteresting flavor concoctions may make one turn their nose up - and perhaps pass without trying them– but their tongue twister flair is certainly delightful as they roll off your tongue. The names of the icecream flavors in Bleezer’s Ice Cream are very reminiscent of the descriptions of the items that theCaterpillar likes to eat in the poem I’ve Eaten Many Strange and Scrumptious Dishes by Roald Dahl. Ittoo was turned into a song by Randy Newman and eventually sung by the Caterpillar in Disney’sadaptation of James and the Giant Peach. Regardless, I’m resigned to think we should simply skipBleezer’s and stick to the flavor burst cones on the Cape May Promenade!

Her Hobby

Miniscule models she placed with great care

Artistically painted mountain and vale

Of each little aspect she’s quite aware

Real life in tiny scale with much detail

The tracks of steel are slight to fit the train

It speeds along the rails at her control

Slowing only long enough to explain

How once they ran on nothing but black coal

Air filled with smoke, the stack released its grip

Covers hamlet and field, foothill and lake

Chugging round and round, lengthy is her trip

Such sound, it lulls those that are not awake

She stops her work in time to climb aboard

A jaunt on the grand train is her reward

~ by Thomas Berger

Working in the Train Room2012

Door I created for the Train Room

2012

Garden Train 2013

On “Her Hobby”…

What little boy doesn’t like trains? And how lucky and I to have a

Grandmother who likes them, too! I have fond memories of you getting

down on the floor with me and running the train Dad put up under the

tree at Christmas. And do you remember the year Kenny and I got the

John Deere train at Christmas? Your impatience was just as bad as mine –

both of us wanting to get it out of the box and get it up and running.

When the PA Virtual field trip to Roadside America was announced, I just

knew that you had to come along - now that’s a train yard layout! We

had t0 flip every switch to see what would happen next. After years of

talking about it, you finally have the space for your very own train room.

While the project has taken a slight pause (at least from me), I am looking

forward to getting back on track (yes, pun intended) to working on it after

I graduate. Just like all the other poems I wrote for this project, this one

reflects something that you enjoy, and I am grateful to be able to enjoy it

with you!

PA Virtual Field Trip to

Roadside America

2011

~ by Shel Silverstein

Not my room, but a verygood representation!

On “Messy Room”…

Shel Silverstein is one of my favorite poets and I so wanted to include one of his poems in myproject. While perusing his work online, I came across Messy Room and immediately thought youwould appreciate it. Let’s face it, it fits my room to a tee! How many times have you peeked inmy room and simply shook your head with disapproval? Especially after all the time you put intohelping me redecorate it in true green John Deere tractor fashion. In Messy Room, Mr. Silversteindoes well in describing a room in quite a bit of disarray. The speaker is the owner of the roomhimself and he points out how bad the mess truly is with items hanging, jammed, and thrown allover the place. In the last quatrain the poem reaches its climax - after trying to figure out whosemess it is, the speaker is reminded that it is actually his room. The piece is written in four quatrains,each with an A,B,C,B pattern of end rhymes. This means that lines two and four in each quatrainrhyme – lamp/damp, floor/door, hall/wall – and they are all words used to describe the room. Inthe lines, “His workbook is wedged in the window” and “And his smelly old sock has been stuck tothe wall,” Mr. Silverstein’s repeated use of the letters W and S are examples of the literary deviceof alliteration - the repetition of a particular sound in the stressed syllables of a series of words orphrases. This helps the rhythm of the piece and draws attention to those lines. Each line is onecomplete thought or description, an example of them being end-stopped. While the roomdescribed could be mistaken for mine, just remember what great-Grandpop’s wood shop lookedlike before you and Uncle Skip got ahold of it!

The Innkeeper

They come from near and far

They stay a day or two

People that she never knew

By motorbike and car

Each brings a story with which to tell

She listens to them all

A few she finds she can recall

They’ve been before, she knows them well

The trip, like all, must come to an end

The guest, has gone, around the bend

She works to prepare

The place to share

With those who come from near and far

Who travel by motorbike and car

by Thomas Berger

On “The Innkeeper”…

I wrote this poem to describe one of the numerous facets of your life. The

cottage has been not only your retirement project, but a work of love for

our entire family. It has occasionally been a source of frustration, the

pleasure has always outweighed the pain. In the beginning, as great-

Grandpop’s home and it seemed as though the maintenance was

endless. Something always needing to be repaired as the 50+ year old

building started to deteriorate. But you made it possible and

comfortable for him to live out his days there. Years later, the work to

renovate the building to a bed and breakfast and vacation home

became a family project, from construction to interior design. A new

roof, new siding, tearing out walls and building new ones, paint colors,

furniture – the work seemed endless. But the result was a beautiful place

you share with others who seek respite from their busy lives. And while

now there is the laundering of linens and cleaning of rooms, the work is

rewarded by the stories of your guests. While they may see you only as

“The Innkeeper” of the cottage, I know that you are also the “keeper” of

the legacy that that ties generations together.

Working in the wood shop on a project for

the Cottage

2007

Ode to the Volunteer

“Help!” is the cry -

She rushes like the wind

ALWAYS willing to lend a hand

Massive missionOr tiny task, it matters not.

Endless computer files and folders

Countless satchels overflowing

Organization is her key

In keeping all the balls moving

And once again she’s at the helm!

Which hat will it be today?

Commander with the wooden gavel that descends with a loud explosion

Inspired chef in the kitchen creating

tastes to delight the palate

Accountant with the money bags

heavy laden with paper and coin

Playhouse enthusiast at the table motivating the local landscape

Helping others is her hymn

The endless hours are simply time

Ticking away without a thought

As the balls keep moving

And once again she’s at the helm!

~ by Thomas Berger

BAMS Food PantryCollection 2011

On “Ode To the Volunteer”…

You volunteer for EVERYTHING! You passed this philosophy on to Mom,

and she in turn has passed it on to me. Service to others is one of the

many tenant of the Boy Scouts, and you’ve provided me with countless

opportunities to put my words into action. Your passion about the

BAMS Food Pantry became my passion. The hours in the pantry have

given me the opportunity to learn first-hand the need in our

community, and the gratitude from those it serves is so humbling. My

belief in the pantry program is so strong, that mass food collections

were at the heart of my Eagle and Senior Projects. The Colonial

Theatre and its revitalization is near and dear to your heart, and in it you

can now find a seat that bears my name. We’ve spent countless hours

working carnival stands to raise funds for BCDO, and in turn use those

funds to help others. You have touched the lives of so many people,

and like a pebble dropped into the human sea, your service will

continue to radiate in ever-widening circles, touching the lives of

people through unending time. If in my life I can even accomplish half

of what you have so far, I will have done well.

“Volunteers do not

necessarily have the

time; they just have

the heart.”

~ Elizabeth Andrew

Super

Samson

Simpson

I am Super Samson Simpson,

I’m superlatively strong,

I like to carry elephants,

I do it all day long,

I pick up half a dozen

and hoist them in the air,

It’s really somewhat simple,

for I have strength to spare.

My muscles are

enormous,

they bulge from top to toe,

and when I carry elephants,

they ripple to and fro,

but I am not the strongest

in the Simpson family,

for when I carry elephants,

my grandma carries me.

~ by Jack Prelutsky

On “Super Samson Simpson”…

I chose this piece to sum up my project. It’s another by Jack Prelutsky, and just as humorous asBleezer’s Ice Cream. It speaks of a boy carrying elephants all day long, and a grandmother whocan carry the boy when he’s carry elephants. When I first read this, I was reminded of you andme (see, I can get it right!). Even though I was everyone’s “peanut” when I was born, I madegood use of following years and grew by leaps and bounds. Now I tower over Mom (as if that’shard!), Dad, and you. With my size comes physical strength which is helpful around the groundsof your cottage and in the Multi-Service Food Pantry. But when it comes right down to it, you aremuch stronger than anyone else I know. Whether it’s running your own business, laboring in thegarden, walking miles on end on the beach, or making the “movers and shakers” move andshake, you have a strength that soars above the rest. All right, enough with the mushy stuff andback to the poem. Mr. Prelutsky structured this piece in two octaves, or two section with eightlines each. It is written in an A,B,C,B,D,E,F,E rhyme scheme, with lines two and four and six andeight rhyming. I have found that in doing this project, this is the easiest and my most favoritepattern to read. All of the literary devises used in this piece add to its overall humor. Alliteration inthe first octave is evident in the words Super, Samson, Simpson, superlatively, strong, somewhat,simple, strength, and spare make the piece like a tongue-twister. The clear exaggeration of thestrength of the boy and his grandmother is expressed by using hyperbole. As if a boy carryingelephants all day long isn’t funny enough!

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