








This drawing shows Deaf poet Dorothy “Dot” Miles signing a line from one of her nature poems. In this poem, she compares the moon to a glowing lemon and shows its reflection on a quiet pond. Dot used the visual power of sign language to create pictures in the air, and this illustration helps students see how signed poetry works.
Artist Frank Allen Paul, a well-known illustrator of sign language, captured the exact handshapes, movement, and expression Dot used. His artwork freezes a moment of signed poetry and turns it into visual art that we can study and appreciate.
This artwork helps students understand that ASL is not just a language, it is also a powerful art form.
Educational Note: How the poem works
In this poem, Dot Miles visually describes the moon using:
Frank Allen Paul’s drawing makes these visual elements easier to see and analyze, especially for students new to ASL literature.
About Dot Miles
Dorothy “Dot” Miles (1931–1993) is widely regarded as the mother of modern Deaf poetry in both the United Kingdom and the United States. She was a British (Welsh) Deaf poet, playwright, performer, and activist who created poetry in written English, British Sign Language (BSL), and at times American Sign Language (ASL). Her work helped bridge Deaf and hearing communities and opened the door for signed-language poetry to be recognized as a true art form.
Dot lost her hearing at a young age due to cerebro-spinal meningitis, yet her creative work blossomed across languages and cultures. Her poems are known for strong imagery, smooth visual movement, and emotional depth. Today, ASL and BSL teachers often use her work to show how sign language can create powerful, visual poetry that expresses ideas in ways written language cannot.
Key Facts About Her Poetry
“From your fingertips see a frog leap, at a passing butterfly. The word becomes the picture in this language for the eye.”
Dot Miles’s legacy continues to inspire new generations of Deaf poets, performers, and students exploring the beauty of sign language.
