Here are a few of my recent poems on the theme of gentle poems in a troubled world.
Moonlight and Ice
Driving alone, not feeling lonely, I thought of the
Obligations fathers and their children have to each other.
I thought of the Japanese word On, meaning our duty,
What we owe. I was headed to the Mississippi River
Before dawn on a cold December day. Along the road
Were patches of ice, dark farm houses–everyone
Sleeping–frozen lakes, and small icy ponds.
Walking out on the sheet of ice that the Mississippi
Had become I reached a place visible in the moonlight that
I thought was right and I kicked a hole in the ice for the ashes.
No one in sight, I said a prayer aloud for my father.
How grief blurs one’s eyes and clutches one’s throat.
The sun came up as if it had risen like a golden flower from
Out of the earth. Then the landscape grew bright, ice glittering
In sunlight.
Pitch Black Nights
There are nights so dark
Out here on this mountain top
I can’t see anything.
But the air is alive with
Sounds I lie back, listen to, and try to identify.
One Day’s Peace of Mind and Heart
Could I have but one day’s peace of mind and heart
I would choose this lovely fall day with Diana.
The colors of the crowns of autumn’s trees
Are so brilliant today as to open our eyes from sleep.
As light in weight as a maple leaf a south wind
Brushes across the surface of the lake we played in
As children, rippling the water, ringing a red
Sailboat’s bell. Over us now fly six gulls
White as lilies. Their shadows cross Diana’s face.
Everyone agrees her face is beautiful,
And her gray-white-silver hair is beautiful, and
Green eyes, and the appeal of her voice, so soft,
The appeal of her kind, endearing thoughts, the appeal
Of her every quality–these things overwhelm me.
Images of Natural Life While Walking Through a Forest with a Friend
In the underbrush along the path we followed grew
Morning glories, wild flowers, lilies of the valley, azaleas, and
Asters. In the trees above, squirrels preened on their hind legs,
Then sprang and leaped from branch to branch. A nervous chipmunk
Made its departure into the lush chipmunk world.
A small female white-tail deer waited courteously for us to pass,
A puzzled expression in her bulging eyes, and then bounded
Free as a wind across the path. We were so close we could touch her.
Then a full-grown, majestic male with more serious eyes appeared,
Strutting across the path as though a banker.
Grasshoppers still damp with morning dew dried themselves
In the sunlight and we took care to step around them.
A yellow finch, its head bobbing, chirped sweetly. Insects
Squabbled in the air. The fragrance of clover
Was everywhere. A wind swept across the river in front of us.
The leaves of the trees seemed to whisper.
Going Home the Last Time
I will go back now to where I grew up,
The place and the people,
Arriving as the sun
Sets in a perfect pink and orange sky
Above the church where my father sang.
I will smell working-class six o’clock meat and potato dinners
Down the streets and pause to watch hawks circle above
The chimney of my house
Just as another generation of hawks did in my youth.
Neighbors will trudge home from work, in no hurry, quiet,
Alone or in twos and threes with their
Crumpled lunch bags folded in their hand.
Then before leaving forever, I will sit on the stairs
Of my long-ago home listening to crickets in the hedges
Chirping their praise of summer nights.
© 2025 David J. Rogers
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My most popular post is entitled “The Characteristics of Creative People.” The subtitle of the post reveals what is different about my approach and makes the post popular. The subtitle, “What We Learn from Writers, Artists, Dancers, Musicians, and Actors,” is my way of saying that through analysis of successful people I have known in various arts and crafts and many others I have read about and studied, these characteristics and personal qualities I describe are those that help writers and artists and others in the arts to do their best work.
sculptures, prints, and ceramics, and established Lynn Fontanne as a great dancer, Laurence Olivier a great actor, George Gershwin (as hard a worker as there ever has been in any field), a great composer, and so on.
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