josephprogers

[josephprogers]

The Bogeyman of Bogey Hills

Joseph Patrick Rogers 

A man and child happily strode

Along a tree-lined, rolling road.

The child looked up, searching for

A phoenix in the sky

And hoped that hobbits or

Elves were nearby.

“If we explore along

This path and search,

Maybe we’ll find Middle-earth.

I’d love to go to Narnia

If we could

By walking straight into those woods.

Fauns, centaurs, and unicorns

Might be hiding in the trees!

Aslan, the great lion, I want so much to see!

How fantastic that would be!”

“Probably we won’t see great Aslan today,

Though I hope that he will soon come this way!

But other adventures are just around the bend!

There are wonders without end!

“It is a good day for telling tales

Of sea serpents and gigantic whales!

I’ll also tell you about

The Lady of the Lake

Who brought a sword

For a King to take.”

“Grandpa, why does this place have such a funny name?

“Well, I’ve heard a tale or two

That might help explain,”

The man said as they strolled along the lane.

“I’ll tell you, but we must

Keep our voices low;

We must not awaken

What sleeps near where we go.”

    “Grandpa, Grandpa,

Tell me please!

Is there a monster in those trees?

Are there giants or trolls

Up there in the hills?

Why must I be still?”

“Dear child, I have lived for many years.

While you are with me,

You need never fear.

Magic can work for good or ill

In this place called ‘Bogey Hills.’

However, without me,

Into those woods,

You should not go.

Don’t let me see your footprints

In the snow!”

“But tell me what is up there?

Why do you even care?”

The man brushed back his silver hair.

“Keep in mind

That tall tales around here abound,

But their facts are not always sound.

Many stories occurred

Long, long ago before your birth

When there were great battles

On the earth.

“One story says that

There was a Bogeyman --

A ghoul or phantom who

Wreaked fear throughout this land.”

“Where? Where?”

“Over there,

In the woods by the pond.

The name of the phantom,

I do not know,

But ‘Bogeyman’ is the name

By which we shall go!”

“Tell me more!

I want to know!”

The child asked with eyes aglow.

“Magically traveling here from

Far, far away,

Merlin the Wizard came to

Try to save the day.

“Merlin wielded his magic wand

And drove the Bogeyman back

Toward that pond.

“But the Bogeyman was not

Easily brought to bay

And fought back

In a fierce, furious way.

“The phantom roared

And screeched and wailed,

But all his noisy efforts failed

To frighten Merlin,

Who had seen it all before.

He knew the creature to its core.

“The battle went on and on,

Through the night

And close to dawn.

Then Merlin hatched a different plan

To remove the phantom from this land.

“Merlin wove his spell

Into a childish tune,

A little song about the moon.

It seemed to all a nursery rhyme,

Completely wrong for such a

Dangerous day and time.

“The phantom hurled insults

And words of scorn.

‘You are the worst wizard ever born!’

“Merlin stayed calm

And kept his poise.

He knew that these insults were

Just a lot of noise.

“ ‘Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,

That's an Irish lullaby,’

But Merlin sang a different song,

Though just as sweet

And twice as long.

He sang of sheep

Running through the glen,

And he counted each of them

From one to ten.

Merlin sang about the stars,

Of wise men who traveled far.

The song flowed through the ghoul,

Who had been completely fooled.

“Unaware of the subtle spell,

The phantom thought

That all was well,

But slowly, slowly,

His eyes closed tight,

Then he went out like a light.

“Merlin sealed the Bogeyman

In a cave in those hills

So that the phantom

Could cause no more ills.

“The defeated Bogeyman

Remains in slumber there today,

And we should be on our way!”

For a longer tale,

The child implored.

“I never heard that story before!

Please, Grandpa, tell me more!”

“Dear child,

That’s just the story that I heard.

Some would say it’s quite absurd!

Bogey Hills might have gotten its name

From an excellent, ancient game

Which is played just down that lane.

There’s a golf course a short distance away

Where many golfers play each day.

“In the lake and in the sand,

Golf shots often land.

Then the golfer might get

A score called a ‘bogey.’

So that could explain how the name

‘Bogey Hills’ came to be.”

“Yes, yes, I see.

But what is the correct explanation?

This is such a puzzling situation!”

“I believe both stories are true,

Both the old and the new.

That has happened a time or two!”

“Grandpa, I hope that someday

I’m as smart as you!”

As the man and child

Prepared to go,

They heard a terrible scream

Like from a nightmarish dream.

While turning to see

The cause of this unrest,

The grandfather pulled an

Ancient wooden wand from his vest.

However, then came a distant yell,

And the man knew that all was well.

“Another double bogey!

How can this be?

This game is too hard for me!”

Thus came the golfer’s woeful wail

After a tee shot badly failed.

Feeling sympathy for the hapless hacker,

Who was not among golf’s best,

The grandfather slipped the wand

Back into his vest.

His special skills were not needed today,

So Merlin and the child went on their way.

[josephprogers]

A Stranger in the Night

Joseph Patrick Rogers

***************************

On a night so dark and dreary,

A woman feeling sad and weary

Fled into the vast unknown,

Far from what had once been her home.

Across a rocky shoreline she fled,

Uncertain where the rough path led.

Because she was so very worried,

She moved too fast in her hurry.

She tripped upon a rock, stumbled,

And down a steep hill,

She tumbled.

For a while,

She remained still in the sandy dirt,

Uncertain how badly she was hurt.

Upon a nearby cliff,

She saw a stranger

And feared that she was in danger.

Injured and alone,

She was easy prey

For any evildoer who came that way.

The stranger came down the hill

And helped her stand.

He calmed her with kind words,

Then brushed off the dirt and sand.

“Thank you for lending me a helping hand,”

She told the stranger,

Who fortunately was no danger.

Nevertheless, it was getting very late,

And she feared a tragic fate.

Off this island,

She needed to flee

And be gone

As soon as could be!

“All the boats are moored for the night,”

She gasped

As her despair reached a new height.

She was about to give up

And turn around

When she heard a little sound.

It was the sound of water splashing.

Against the nearby wooden pier,

Some waves were lapping.

She was surprised to see

A sailing skiff still upon the sea.

Silhouetted against the shining moon,

A lone sailor in the skiff

Appeared none too soon.

“Sir, to the mainland,

Could you make one more run tonight?

I’ll pay you well.

For your trouble,

I’ll make it right.”

The man smiled and replied,

“Yes.

There’s always time for one more run,

Even if my passengers only number one.”

In bright moonlight,

The sea seemed to glow

And was wonderfully serene.

It seemed almost like a dream.

Upon reaching the far shore,

She thanked the man,

Who declined the money in her hand.

“This was directly along my way.

Save your money for another day.”

After saying goodbye,

The woman departed

As another long walk started.

Somehow she knew the direction

That she should go.

How she knew where,

She did not know.

Perhaps as a child,

She had been there once or twice before.

In her mind’s eye,

She saw a door.

As she sought this sanctuary,

She glanced about,

Watchful and wary.

She passed through a dark valley

In which she sensed doom.

Everywhere danger seemed to loom.

 Shadowy figures came swiftly out of the night.

They were indeed a terrible sight.

Nightmares had become all too real,

And she feared her fate was sealed.

The predators headed toward her.

Then, suddenly, they stopped

And turned around,

Disappearing into the night

Without a sound.

“I must look tougher

Than I am.

Somehow I got out of quite a jam!”

She laughed with relief and joy.

Happy as a child with a new toy,

She was very pleased

And finished her long walk with ease.

She entered a small town.

It was almost dawn,

But people were not yet up and around.

A colorful cottage caught her eye,

And she gave a profound sigh.

She approached and knocked on the door,

Uncertain what was next in store.

The door opened without hesitation,

And she felt a thrilling sensation.

A man stood there,

Tall and strong.

She realized that she had been

Expected all along.

His face was one that all persons knew:

Handsome, wise, good, kind, and true.

The woman had a sudden epiphany.

For the first time, 

She could truly see

And understand.

With profound joy,

She beheld the Man.

He then told her,

“I was the stranger who helped you near the cliff.

I was the boatman in the skiff.

The evildoers in the dark valley fled from me.

I was the friend whom you could not see.

“I am your first and foremost friend.

I am the Beginning and the End.

“It was to me that your journey led.

There never was cause for dread.

It seemed as though I was not there,

And you were burdened with many cares.

“It was I who prompted

You to set out on your way,

Who guided you here

And now invite you to stay.

“I am the Way, the Truth,

The Life, and the Light.

It was I whom you sought

For many, many nights.

“Come, sister, daughter,

And dear friend.

Share in my life without end.”

[josephprogers]

The Golden Key

Joseph Patrick Rogers

***************************

I walked along the broken road Toward where I thought that I should be. I sought not truth nor goodness. I sought not the golden key.

One day, while on that road, A fellow traveler posed this question to me: “Tell me, sir, if you can, Where is the silver tree? Does it lie around that bend? Is the silver tree nearby? It is urgent that I find it — As urgent as can be! Please help me find the silver tree!”

I knew not what to tell the woman. I knew not where the tree could be found. It could be past that distant town. It might be nowhere here around.

Although by her question I was distracted and delayed, The woman’s question interested me. For some reason — I knew not why — I wanted to find that silver tree.

“The tree lies not along this road,” With confidence I said. “For along this route, this broken road, I have often tread.”

“Sir, are you sure, completely sure, That this is not the way? For someone whom I trusted Told me along this road I should stay.”

“I do not know how that could be For I have never seen a silver tree. This is not a gilded path of loveliness, Not a path for kings and queens. Along this broken road you’ll find the Lost — Beggars, madmen, drunks, the stoned …”

“I’m glad that I do not travel this road alone!”

“I do not think that there is cause for fear, But your silver tree cannot be here.”

At that moment I almost tripped Over a Man whom I did not see — I was as surprised as I could be.

The Man did look familiar. His face I thought that I should know. Had this Man once been my neighbor? I do believe that it might be so! The Man looked like a beggar, Yet he asked nothing from me.

Was there a chance that he knew of the silver tree? It was unlikely — as unlikely as could be That such knowledge belonged to one such as he.

Expecting nothing in return for me, I gave the Man a golden coin. It seemed the right thing to do. I wanted to be generous, noble, good, and true.

Before I asked him a question, Before I said a word, The Man pointed toward a narrow path That I had not observed.

He said, “That is the way That you must take to find the silver tree. Take this golden path along the golden way To find the Tree of Life. This golden coin is a golden key That opens many doors.” The Man did not say any more.

We bid the Man thanks and farewell. We left the broken road. Then, for the first time, I saw a golden path And remembered what we had been told.

The path led upward; I knew not where. The woman and I soon were a weary pair.

We traveled high up a hill, Then higher and higher and higher still. When at last we reached the peak, I knew that this was the place that we did seek.

“It is the silver tree!” the woman said, Though she could barely speak.

I did not realize that we would find The object of her quest to be so sublime.

How did this tree come to be here — So far away and yet so near?

This mystery I tried to understand, But, for my mind, the mystery was too grand. I simply stood in humble awe, Looking with wonder at all I saw.

[josephprogers]

The Prodigal and the Paraclete

Joseph Patrick Rogers

 **************************

Upon my front door, Someone was rapping. Then on a window, I heard a tapping. Who was there? Early morning visitors Were rather rare. Was I in the middle of a dream? No, I was awake, Or so it seemed. Tap, tap, tap. What is on the window sill? It’s a bothersome bird. “Please be still!” I tried to chase the bird away, But he kept returning. He seemed determined to stay. Does he plan to tap all day? Tap, tap, tap. Why does that bird persist? What is the use of this? Tap, tap, tap. It goes on and on. I wish that he would be gone! Apparently, it is I who needs to leave. This is difficult to believe! I will go where I cannot be found. That tapping is too annoying to be around! I’ll make my daily walk to the town square. There are many things to do there. My rights and grievances I shall declare. My opinions will be heard. I’ll mock ancient traditions as absurd. From my phone, I can send tweets worldwide And win followers to my side. Tap, tap, tap. The bird is here, too. All the way to the town square he flew. Tap, tap, tap. Isn’t there some way to get the bird to desist? I can’t take much more of this! Why does that bird still follow me? Doesn’t he belong in a tree? That tapping is driving me quite mad! For some silence, I would be glad. I do know of a silent place – Filled with light, mystery, perhaps with grace. But to that place, I swore not to return! Let those damned candles burn! Out of that place, I once fled And sought other truths instead. Tap, tap, tap. I don’t know what to do! I haven’t even the slightest clue! Perhaps I will retreat to my old sanctuary, But in that place, I shall not tarry. The bird can’t follow me inside. It will be an ideal place to hide. Tap, tap, tap. It cannot be! I hear the bird, But him I cannot not see. This I did not expect. I could not be more vexed! Has some witch placed upon me a hex? Within these walls, I expected The bird to be non-existent, Yet here, he is even more persistent! Wait! Wait! The tapping is no more. I wonder what is next in store. I hope that the bird has departed, (Tap, tap, tap.) But he might be just getting started. Through a clear pane In the colorful stained glass window, I could see a bird As white as snow. He almost seemed to glow. Outside that calm and peaceful church, The bird rested on a perch. Perhaps his task had been completed. My prideful spirit had been defeated. I looked toward the altar table On which would be placed The gifts of bread and wine, Soon to be transformed Into the life divine. At that moment, The magnificent bird took to the air. Never was a sight so fair. He then flew from my sight. His mission done. My soul set aright.

[josephprogers]

The Mysterious Gift

Joseph Patrick Rogers

**************************

Somehow everyone seemed to know About the gift that I planned to bestow Upon an unpopular, ill-tempered fellow Who was very loud and often bellowed. Everyone had an opinion to share. “Do not go there! However, if you do go, take care! That man is selfish, petty, and mean -- By far the worst person we’ve ever seen. Girl Scouts selling cookies, he chases away! If you park in his spot, he’ll make you pay! If you disagree with him, he’ll ruin your day!” I heard all their warnings, But I still wanted to go. Perhaps I was foolish. I do not know. I was determined to go there. I could not be deterred. The cynics, skeptics, and doubters Need not say a word. I gathered my courage and buttoned my coat, Then ventured forth like a sailor with no lifeboat. I set out upon my way, Eager for the challenge of that day. Upon reaching the man’s house, I rang the doorbell. There seemed to be no one about As far as I could tell. But then I knocked on the door; I knocked loud and clear. I wanted him to know that I was here. In the doorway, he finally did appear With an expression that would cause much fear. “What do you want?” He declared angrily. “Why are you here to bother me?” As I started to explain My reason for being there, He cut me off. He did not care. The details I’ll spare you. There’s no need for those. Let’s just say that he was mean From his head to his toes. The man was a scoundrel. Let’s tell the truth here. Because of the truth, We need never fear. His expression was unpleasant. His eyes were quite beady, Revealing a character sinister and seedy. I wanted to run. I wanted to flee As far from this villain As I could be. However, some hunch told me to remain, To give it another try, That my efforts were not in vain. Firmly in one spot I stood And bore his insults as best I could. I ignored the awful things that he said And thought of pleasant things instead. I thought of geese flying over the lake. I thought of Christmas morning after I would awake. I thought about kind grandmas and funny dogs. I thought about a fireplace with burning logs. I recalled my favorite heroes, writers, and saints. I remembered a picture that I tried to paint. The man’s insults I did not heed. Such venom I did not need. He ranted and raved about this and that And glared at me like I was a brat. Finally, at last, after speaking so long, He ran out of breath. I felt like singing a song. As I looked at him, I managed a smile. I’m sure that he had not seen one for a while. He sighed and said to me: “Why don’t you walk away? Is the effort too much? Are you lazy? Or maybe you’re a little bit crazy?” “Everyone is a little crazy. You should know that by now,” I told him, maintaining my smile. “And some days, I’m lazy, But that’s good, too. If we didn’t rest and play, We’d all be sad and blue.” “Get to the point! I don’t have all day!” The man said, stamping his feet, His face turning as red as a beet. Before he exploded, I replied, “The point, sir, is that I want nothing from you, Not your money, nor possessions, nothing at all. That is not why I came to call. In fact, I’m here to give you a gift. Perhaps it will give your spirit a lift.” I held up the present That he had not previously seen And, in his eyes, there appeared a wondrous gleam. Just for a moment, I could see A glimpse of what this man could be. However, his reply showed suspicion of me. “You bring me a present unasked for, just out of the blue. There must be something in it for you! I will not be fooled by this deception and lie. To you, I say ‘goodbye!’ ” The front door slammed in my face. Clearly I was unwelcome in this place. It was really quite rude, But I was not discouraged by his bad attitude. I placed the gift on his porch, Then departed and went on my way. I had done all I could On that bright, happy day. I left a gift unexpected, unsought, unforeseen, Yet it was a gift fit for a king or a queen. Before I traveled too far down the road, I heard something back at the man’s abode. I heard a door open with a loud click. Perhaps my imagination was playing a trick. But when I looked back, I was pleased to see The man on his porch looking at The unwrapped gift with childlike glee. The opened gift seemed to glow with a radiant light In the hands of a man who was now a joyful sight. He appeared to have mysteriously been made whole With charity and generosity filling his soul. Perhaps the man had been transformed Like the Grinch and Scrooge on Christmas morn. Perhaps that happened on this day, Although, with certainty, I cannot say. I do not know. I hope and pray that it is so.

[josephprogers]

Essential Things

Joseph Patrick Rogers

**************************

                                                            I walked along the broken road Toward where I thought that I should be. I sought not truth nor goodness. I sought not the golden key.

One day, while on that road, A fellow traveler posed this question to me: “Tell me, sir, if you can, Where is the silver tree? Does it lie around that bend? Is the silver tree nearby? It is urgent that I find it — As urgent as can be! Please help me find the silver tree!”

I knew not what to tell the woman. I knew not where the tree could be found. It could be past that distant town. It might be nowhere here around.

Although by her question I was distracted and delayed, The woman’s question interested me. For some reason — I knew not why — I wanted to find that silver tree.

“The tree lies not along this road,” With confidence I said. “For along this route, this broken road, I have often tread.”

“Sir, are you sure, completely sure, That this is not the way? For someone whom I trusted Told me along this road I should stay.”

“I do not know how that could be For I have never seen a silver tree. This is not a gilded path of loveliness, Not a path for kings and queens. Along this broken road you’ll find the Lost — Beggars, madmen, drunks, the stoned …”

“I’m glad that I do not travel this road alone!”

“I do not think that there is cause for fear, But your silver tree cannot be here.”

At that moment I almost tripped Over a Man whom I did not see — I was as surprised as I could be.

The Man did look familiar. His face I thought that I should know. Had this Man once been my neighbor? I do believe that it might be so! The Man looked like a beggar, Yet he asked nothing from me.

Was there a chance that he knew of the silver tree? It was unlikely — as unlikely as could be That such knowledge belonged to one such as he.

Expecting nothing in return for me, I gave the Man a golden coin. It seemed the right thing to do. I wanted to be generous, noble, good, and true.

Before I asked him a question, Before I said a word, The Man pointed toward a narrow path That I had not observed.

He said, “That is the way That you must take to find the silver tree. Take this golden path along the golden way To find the Tree of Life. This golden coin is a golden key That opens many doors.” The Man did not say any more.

We bid the Man thanks and farewell. We left the broken road. Then, for the first time, I saw a golden path And remembered what we had been told.

The path led upward; I knew not where. The woman and I soon were a weary pair.

We traveled high up a hill, Then higher and higher and higher still. When at last we reached the peak, I knew that this was the place that we did seek.

“It is the silver tree!” the woman said, Though she could barely speak.

I did not realize that we would find The object of her quest to be so sublime.

How did this tree come to be here — So far away and yet so near?

This mystery I tried to understand, But, for my mind, the mystery was too grand. I simply stood in humble awe, Looking with wonder at all I saw.

[josephprogers]

[josephprogers]

"Wedding Vows: a poem" by Joseph P. Rogers

“Not yet, my love, shall we marry.

I will someday be your wife,

But I treasure freedom highly,

And cannot yet be bound for life.

I must be free to wander,

To follow whims beck and call

For what paths I’ll choose to follow,

I do not know yet at all.”

“You are my dear, my love, my life,

I want you soon to be my wife.

Let me walk the paths with you.

Let me hold the lamp to guide you

Into joys and wonders new.”

“Where shall you take me, dearest?

To what shores shall we sail?

Have you learned the ancient secrets?

Where can we find the Holy Grail?” 

“On a journey I shall take you.

We shall seek the Tree of Life.

We will sail on sapphire waters

Until we reach the Emerald Isle

Where we’ll dance in moonlight

Upon a mountaintop.

We can find the fairy kingdom

And then we’ll search still more!

Yet wherever our quest takes us,

Whatever wonders we shall see,

I am completely certain

I’ll love none as I love thee.” 

“Perhaps, my love, you see a vision

Of what is meant to be

For as your wife I’ll gain the wholeness

That has long eluded me.

So I shall take the marriage vow:

Let us make our pledges now.” 

“This sacred oath we take today:

Adversity shall not chase our love away

For while we live, we are one.

Today in the Spirit we are bound,

And in our bond is freedom found.”

[josephprogers]

"Let your life be guided by greatness."

Matthew Kelly in The Rhythm of Life: Living Every Day with Passion and Purpose

[josephprogers]

"Lullaby for a Newborn" by Joseph P. Rogers

Sleeping Beauty, sleep, sleep tight,

Dream of fairies all the night,

Then enter into this world so bright.

Welcome, welcome, child of light.

  Shining like the morning moon,

Momma’s girl will wake soon

And see the world with fresh eyes,

Everything new, everything a surprise.

  God’s great creation is yours to explore.

Are there elves outside that door?

  The world is better since your birth.

You are Heaven’s gift placed on earth.

  What kind deeds will you do?

What adventures await you?

  Soon you’ll travel with Horton

In search of Whoville’s Whos.

Perhaps you’ll even find Cindy Lou!

  You’ll journey with Piglet and Eeyore and Winnie-the-Pooh,

And then have lunch with Tigger, too.

  Someday you’ll meet Linus and Lucy and Charlie Brown,

And Snoopy must be somewhere around!

  Rest for now, little one.

Tomorrow there will be time for fun.

  Sleeping Beauty, sleep, sleep tight,

Dream magical dreams all the night.

[josephprogers]

This is one of my suspense thrillers.  It is available on Amazon.com in softcover, hardcover, and Amazon Kindle editions. 

[josephprogers]

Redemption at Sea

by Joseph Patrick Rogers

A gust of wind filled the mainsail and jib,

Prompting him to look ahead,

Eager anticipation having replaced the despair of his departure;

Forty days alone at sea had changed much,

For now he realized that he was never truly alone.

He had intended to escape from one reality,

Only to find a new reality that he had not foreseen.

Wanting to reach his destination sooner,

He raised the spinnaker sail, giving more power to the small vessel;

Three sails:  red, gold, and blue propelled him toward sanctuary.

A glimmering on the horizon prompted him to turn the wheel,

Aiming the boat like an arrow toward the wonders before him.

Burnt by the sun, wracked by fever, tossed by storms,

He had survived it all;

Or, rather, his old self had died, and he had been born anew,

Baptized into the Spirit by the waves that washed over him.

All the vanities of modern life washed away by the elementals,

No wonder would now have surprised him:

Mermaids, sea serpents, Neptune emerging to challenge his upstart vessel.

All the glories that could be will be, he now knew

As he sailed toward the glowing Kingdom that rose from the ocean before him.