Raymond F. Rogers Poems

A few blinks through the window of awareness
And we think we know the truth of what we've seen.
But we only guess at much of what we witness
For dust and grime distort our viewing screen. We know not the degree of the distortion;
...

Sometimes great quandaries know my soul:
I marvel at the silliness of man;
"How," I ask, "can God be in control
As chaos wreaks such havoc in the land?" But rectitude requires I search my soul
...

My garden is a safe abode
For a hungry winner.
There a little hoppy toad
Has flies and bugs for dinner. He will look around and jump
...