Poetry Dedication Project

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 knew
immediately that I was going to honor my grandmother Patricia Hartline.
Known affectionately as “Gammy,” she is a woman of many interests, and
many talents. While I have touched on many of them on the following
pages, Gammy also served as my English Learning Coach throughout most
of my days at PA Virtual. A keen knowledge of grammar, usage, and
mechanics makes her the consummate teacher of all things wordy. She had
her hands full with me, as I am not a fan of anything having to with
reading or writing. But she miraculously found ways to instill her
knowledge, 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 Gammy
working in the garden, playing with the trains, building in my late great-
Grandpop’s wood shop, volunteering in the Food Pantry at Boyertown Area
Multi-Service, traveling to places far and wide, and annually relaxing at the
beach 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 for
graduation, I look forward to making more memories with her in the years to
come!
~ 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 is
To 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 Mary
Baker Eddy. Over the years, you have shared many of the teachings of Christian Science with
me, 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 is
the 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 we
live as created in the likeness of God, then things will be as they should be, or satisfied. Some of
the unique features of this poem include Ms. Eddy capitalizing her words as similes for God – “So
Love doth guide,” “Love looseth me,” “There Life is light.” Another is that each quatrain is written
in iambic fashion with four metric feet in lines one and three, and two metric feet in lines two and
four. This gives the piece a nice flow, which is why I believe it was later easily set to music as a
hymn. In the line “False fears are foes-truth tatters those,” we see the use of the literary element
of 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 rhymes
in 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 to
plant his rose bush. Who knew that the strike of his shovel against the
slate in the ground would lead to a beautiful formal garden? A
desolate area stretching along the driveway – overgrown and
unkempt. But that shovel strike piqued your curiosity and you knew
there had to be more. Next thing you found yet another mission to
bind us all together. It took years of uncovering, but in the end you
gave the garden new life, a fresh start. Through numerous seasons, it
has tied together countless generations, past and present. The
garden boasts signs of all of us…great-Grandpop’s boots by his
favorite bench, the outhouse shed that you and Kenny built,
decorative iron pieces chosen with care by Mom, the arbor Dad
created, plants from Uncle Skip, and of course the frog pond you
and I restored together. The garden is a place where we spend time
with each other ~ whether it be working hard in its maintenance,
letting our creativity loose in painting a silly tree root snake, or
frolicking (or is it whining? ) as we uncover hidden clues in the
annual Easter egg hunt. Because it is a central part of your life, and
you 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.
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.
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 humof thetires soothes me into slumber
As webegin thelongawaited journey
Awakenedmidway by shouts of children
We stop for respite and sustenance
Such pleasure to unfoldand stretch my legs
Not muchfurther to seagulls and sea air
~ Thomas Berger
Thomas, age 10

The acquaintedaroma of the beach house
Brings back memories of summers gone by
Leisurelyunpacking each know their part
The futongoes flat, thetrundle rolls out
The beds are made, therefrigerator filled
Vacation has officially begun
Kenny
Dad
Me
Mom
June 2005

“Offtothezinnialady!”is thecry
Willshe stillbethere, is thequestion
Pedalingwithguarded anticipation
Around the corner to appreciate
The bright and vibrant colors of the little plot
A tradition soon to grace our table

Finallythe sand is beneathmy toes
Aware of its warmth and forgiving feel
Untilthe water rushes to meetit
With creatures thatlive beneath thesea
Mixed in thewhitefoam floatin and out
Leavingbehind colorful remnantsof the ocean
August 2009
Thomas, age 3

A castle rises from the gritty landscape
They carefullyencourage it to take shape
Assorted buckets and tools at their command
Create towers, turrets, walls, and moat
Shinypebbles and shells adorn the fortress
As it awaits its fateand thetide rises
2010
July 2006
Thomas, age 2

So muchto do and thetimeis fleeting
Long walks on thePromenade, minigolf
The arcade with its lights and sounds
Henry’s, Bill’s, Louie’s or the Dry Dock?
Sunriseat thePoint, or lack of such
Jigsawpuzzles 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 theirfamiliar hum
And I am once again asleep
Only to wake, countingthe days ‘til nextyear!
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 freezer
you 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 glad
I did. Ice cream – something you and I share on regular occasions! Bleezer’s Ice Cream is simply a
nonsensical poem, with really no point other than to make you laugh. Obviously, the speaker is good
old Ebenezer himself, and he is trying to get your to taste one of his so-called “delicious” flavors. While it
was not laid out as such online, I believe it was written in three quatrains and fourteen couplets. The first
and last quatrains are very similar with an A,B,A,B rhyme scheme, and the first is an almost exact repeat
of the last where Ebeneezer introduces himself. The second quatrain appropriately changes to an
A,B,C,B rhyme scheme, when you are invited to try one of the flavors. Each of the couplets are the
names of the ice cream flavors themselves, and are written as AA,BB,CC, etc. While my description
makes it sound as if the piece is all over the place, the actual poem lends itself well as a song. Singer
Natalie Merchant put the poem to music and included it on one of her albums – check it out at
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruzHHtd7cFM. You can’t help but tap your toes when listening. The
interesting 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 ice
cream flavors in Bleezer’s Ice Cream are very reminiscent of the descriptions of the items that the
Caterpillar likes to eat in the poem I’ve Eaten Many Strange and Scrumptious Dishes by Roald Dahl. It
too was turned into a song by Randy Newman and eventually sung by the Caterpillar in Disney’s
adaptation of James and the Giant Peach. Regardless, I’m resigned to think we should simply skip
Bleezer’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 Room
2012
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 very
good representation!

On “Messy Room”…
Shel Silverstein is one of my favorite poets and I so wanted to include one of his poems in my
project. While perusing his work online, I came across Messy Room and immediately thought you
would appreciate it. Let’s face it, it fits my room to a tee! How many times have you peeked in
my room and simply shook your head with disapproval? Especially after all the time you put into
helping me redecorate it in true green John Deere tractor fashion. In Messy Room, Mr. Silverstein
does well in describing a room in quite a bit of disarray. The speaker is the owner of the room
himself and he points out how bad the mess truly is with items hanging, jammed, and thrown all
over the place. In the last quatrain the poem reaches its climax - after trying to figure out whose
mess 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 quatrain
rhyme – lamp/damp, floor/door, hall/wall – and they are all words used to describe the room. In
the lines, “His workbook is wedged in the window” and “And his smelly old sock has been stuck to
the wall,” Mr. Silverstein’s repeated use of the letters W and S are examples of the literary device
of alliteration - the repetition of a particular sound in the stressed syllables of a series of words or
phrases. This helps the rhythm of the piece and draws attention to those lines. Each line is one
complete thought or description, an example of them being end-stopped. While the room
described could be mistaken for mine, just remember what great-Grandpop’s wood shop looked
like 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 mission
Or 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 Pantry
Collection 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 as
Bleezer’s Ice Cream. It speaks of a boy carrying elephants all day long, and a grandmother who
can carry the boy when he’s carry elephants. When I first read this, I was reminded of you and
me (see, I can get it right!). Even though I was everyone’s “peanut” when I was born, I made
good use of following years and grew by leaps and bounds. Now I tower over Mom (as if that’s
hard!), Dad, and you. With my size comes physical strength which is helpful around the grounds
of your cottage and in the Multi-Service Food Pantry. But when it comes right down to it, you are
much stronger than anyone else I know. Whether it’s running your own business, laboring in the
garden, walking miles on end on the beach, or making the “movers and shakers” move and
shake, you have a strength that soars above the rest. All right, enough with the mushy stuff and
back to the poem. Mr. Prelutsky structured this piece in two octaves, or two section with eight
lines each. It is written in an A,B,C,B,D,E,F,E rhyme scheme, with lines two and four and six and
eight rhyming. I have found that in doing this project, this is the easiest and my most favorite
pattern to read. All of the literary devises used in this piece add to its overall humor. Alliteration in
the 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 the
strength of the boy and his grandmother is expressed by using hyperbole. As if a boy carrying
elephants all day long isn’t funny enough!

Bibliography
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<http://honors4poetry.blogspot.com/2009/10/messy-room-by-shel-silverstein.html>.
"OVBA Logo." Links of Oley Township. Oley Township. Web. 19 May 2013. <http://oleytownship.org/links.html>.
Prelutsky, Jack. "Bleezer's Ice Cream." famouspoetsandpoems.com. Famous Poets And Poems . com, n.d. Web. 26 May
2013. <http://www.famouspoetsandpoems.com/>.
Prelutsky, Jack. "Super Sampson Simpson." famouspoetsandpoems.com. Famous Poets and Poems . com, n.d. Web. 12
May 2013. <http://www.famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/jack_prelutsky/poems/18772>.
Silverstein, Shel. "Messy Room." famouspoetsandpoems.com. Famous Poets and Poems . com, n.d. Web. 10 May 2013.
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