Walking the Corridor

Growing Season Little soldier Fighting hard Carrying his box of toys Years removed, But not too far  From playful days in summer Little soldier Brave and tall Burying his lies and goals Sins accrued And not too few From harvest nights in autumn J.M.Rogers

                        Rhythm  Still drumming away  the years of pain that loss invokes Beating in vain those countless strokes  Cadence sustained by burning notes Till blisters enflamed convey the strain of memory J.M.Rogers

Intangible   Setting sun Darkening trees Chirping birds And rolling breeze What words will do? None that I know So I will sit And watch it go.  Down, down, down Into the night Pink, lavender, blue And deepest twilight. What words will do? None that I know None that I know.   J.M. Rogers

You Are... You are so much more than you know.  More than the woman from town,  more than the teller,  more than the daughter,  more than the mother,  more than the friend,  more than the lover,  and even more than the human-  You are more than your memories  and personal connections, more than your talents  and your legacy  that lives on in the hearts of loved ones  and the DNA and minds of your children.  You are all of those things  and so much more.  You are your hunger,  your fear,  your love,  your hate.  You are a force that compels atoms  to coalesce  for the entirety of your human life.  You are life, my dear beautiful, wondrous, and unique life  that makes existence so much more  enriching and enjoyable. J.M.Rogers

The Gallery Close your eyes and you will find all of the scenes you've left behind no moments lost no sense impaired just seamless thoughts painted on air For in this life we see such sights some that thrill and summon delight while others tear our hearts in two, old lovers fuse those halves anew for good or ill we see, we see, our yesterdays in gallery But if you find you yearn to fight the images of sightless sight for how they weaken you to tears, or conjure up your deepest fears, Remember this, such imagery are all the views you've ever seen Ever they form from start to end the thoughts of lovers, flowers, friends, young faces that you long to see, green places where you wish to be, it is a gift  for one to pine for all the things that pass with time  So close your eyes nostalgic friend and let your mind go round the bend a year, or two, or maybe three, along the lane of memory. J.M.Rogers

Quiet Choir  When I sit and watch the rain Time does not exist There are no hours, no minutes, no days Just sounds I can't resist The pitter patter of pluvial chatter Lulls my wandering mind The fluttering of bathing birds Drowns out the thought of time If I could stay upon my porch Until the clouds pass on I'd consider myself a lucky man On every coming dawn When I sit and watch the rain Time is but a word Of little use Of little worth To the thrum of nature's verve.  J.M.Rogers