http://slow.writerscafe.org/tazjoe1 The original writings of author J. M. Yeary en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776007173 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Was digging through some old boxes and I found my journal from Desert Storm. I thought that it was mong lost. As I was reminiscing, I came across this little poem I had written before our first patrol at dawn. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/302303/ At the end of the day, we are left with our thoughts�hidden fears, dark secrets, and boundless questions left unanswered. We live life through circumstance and consequence, and on many a day, we will take for granted the little things that make us whole. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/127132/ Her words…Soft whispers of passion’s intentionsMelt over me with each sweet syllableCaressing my ears, my heart, my soul Her beauty…Has no rival to envy overEyes like an emerald oceanAn aphrodisiac that consumes me Her mind…Boundless percept.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/70952/ I took a long walk one dayI came across a park benchThe sun was shiningWith just the right touch of a breezeWhat a day I thought, and sat down I looked down at my handsI could see the lines of ageAnd the scars from years of hard workWeathering my skinAnd I thought…&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/68617/ I took a long walk one dayI came across a park benchThe sun was shiningWith just the right touch of a breezeWhat a day I thought, and sat down I looked down at my handsI could see the lines of ageAnd the scars from years of hard workWeathering my skinAnd I thought…&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/68570/ I stand thereLooking at the mirrorThe man taunts meTaunts me with eyesThat pierce my soul Who are you, what have you become?I have no answer…I stand thereNaked against the truthThat beckons me Yet, he stares deeplyInto my soulWaiting…waiting for wo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/68086/ I took a walk down an old dirt roadPass the oaks and the sycamoresBeyond the well-spring and the old red barnAcross a rushing brook, to my Babylon A small shoreline, the perfect placeTo read a book or contemplateTo search my soul for what I missPerhaps a song or love’s fir.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/66540/ Seven years ago, while she lay asleepHe packed his things and turned to leaveHe never said I'm sorry or stayed to see her cryHe just left her with no last goodbye Seven years went by, and he never did writeJust a lonely phone call one hot August nightHe didn't say how are you or I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/65173/  All is dark except for the moonHanging from the Midnight skyAt first glance it appears to stand aloneThe only object to bring light The all at once I see the starsTheir beauty holds my eyesNever to be forgottenLighting up the midnight sky I watch the leaves rust.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/64311/  How tragic is life to never know loveTo never have a hand to holdTo never look into a lover’s eyesAnd lose one’s self in paradise How sad it must be to hide a heartFrom the beauty of a lover’s touchTo caress so soft, a tender cheekOf the perfect love th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/63144/ Once upon a foggy nightWhen the devil’s moon was full and brightThere came a sound like never beforeA dreadful cry and then no moreI rushed outside to look aroundNothing afoot, no evil abound From a passing glance, I caught a glimpseSomething lurking  in the distance.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tazjoe1/60421/