<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!--Generated by Squarespace Site Server v5.11.81 (http://www.squarespace.com/) on Thu, 23 Feb 2012 15:53:11 GMT--><rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:rss="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:cc="http://web.resource.org/cc/"><rss:channel rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/"><rss:title>a writer's lair</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/</rss:link><rss:description></rss:description><dc:language>en-US</dc:language><dc:date>2012-02-23T15:53:11Z</dc:date><admin:generatorAgent rdf:resource="http://www.squarespace.com/">Squarespace Site Server v5.11.81 (http://www.squarespace.com/)</admin:generatorAgent><rss:items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/11/18/mocking-bird.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/11/11/scrip-scrap.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/20/three-haiku.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/13/the-weeks-end.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/6/the-mountain.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/29/resolved.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/22/spring-light.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/15/hard-words.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2010/10/8/except-the-lord-buildeth-the-house.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2010/9/24/as-i-wait-patiently.html"/></rdf:Seq></rss:items></rss:channel><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/11/18/mocking-bird.html"><rss:title>mocking bird</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/11/18/mocking-bird.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-11-18T17:00:26Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Oh! gentle mocking bird,</p>
<p>do not deride me;</p>
<p>do not pass by me,</p>
<p>gentle mocking bird.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>Sing till you have your fill;</p>
<p>sing till the air is full;</p>
<p>sing till the morning laughs;</p>
<p>sing till the night rolls past.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>Sing, gentle mocking bird;</p>
<p>do not forget your voice;</p>
<p>do not abandon it;</p>
<p>sing, gentle mocking bird.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/11/11/scrip-scrap.html"><rss:title>SCRIP. SCRAP.</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/11/11/scrip-scrap.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-11-11T17:00:08Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>SCRIP. SCRAP.</p>
<p>Find the cheese. Find the cheese!</p>
<p>Tell me please--where's the cheese?</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>SCRIP. SCRAP.</p>
<p>Where's the hole? Where's the hole!</p>
<p>It can't be full--where's the hole!&nbsp;</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>SCRIP. SCRAP.</p>
<p>To the end. To the end!</p>
<p>It can't be far--where's the end?</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/20/three-haiku.html"><rss:title>Three Haiku</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/20/three-haiku.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-05-20T16:00:57Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&nbsp;the firefly's light,</p>
<p>snuffed out by a hungry frog.</p>
<p>one last lamp tonight</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>ducks scream as they flee,</p>
<p>startled by a red balloon</p>
<p>and its puzzled boy</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>yesterday's paper</p>
<p>clings to my feet, lonely now</p>
<p>on this winter's day</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/13/the-weeks-end.html"><rss:title>The Week's End</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/13/the-weeks-end.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-05-13T16:00:00Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>No one mourns the week's end.</p>
<p>All celebrate it instead. All dance on its grave.</p>
<p>No flowers adorn the tombstone. No comfort for its family or its friends.</p>
<p>But all scream it from the roof tops: "The Week's dead! The Week's dead!"</p>
<p>Still they all know within a few days time a new week comes again.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/6/the-mountain.html"><rss:title>The Mountain</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/5/6/the-mountain.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-05-06T16:00:50Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>howling white blinds him</p>
<p>wind hammers on his chest</p>
<p>ice chews on his boots</p>
<p>snow claws at his coat and trousers</p>
<p>but the Mountain, the Mountain ignores him</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/29/resolved.html"><rss:title>Resolved</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/29/resolved.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-04-29T16:00:56Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>To search not for morsel to get me by,&nbsp;but for the hand that passes the crumb.</p>
<p>To yield not to passion or circumstance in order to grasp that hand.</p>
<p>To catch the most I can from the wind and strain in through my soul in order to follow that hand.</p>
<p>﻿</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/22/spring-light.html"><rss:title>Spring Light</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/22/spring-light.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-04-22T16:00:20Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Soft mist caresses the blades this mornin', and&nbsp;<br /> sweet light trickles down bark, burnin' the dew.<br /> The ol' apple tree is shakin' to life by the jay's&nbsp;<br /> a-yakin' away at no one in particular. The old tree&nbsp;<br /> puts on her best perfume for the day.<br /> An ant grooms&nbsp;himiself &nbsp;while a butterfly&nbsp;shows off<br /> her fresh pressed wings by takin' a mornin' stroll.<br /> Spring light has come, say hello</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/15/hard-words.html"><rss:title>Hard Words</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2011/4/15/hard-words.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2011-04-15T16:00:57Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Poem</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The hardest words I've ever heard <br /> have come from mouths of children. <br /> The harshest thoughts that e'er were spoke <br /> have come from mouths of children.</p>
<p>"Where have the flowers gone this fall? <br /> Where is the bee? Why has it gone? <br /> Why have the leaves turn to brown? <br /> Where is the bird's waking song?"</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2010/10/8/except-the-lord-buildeth-the-house.html"><rss:title>Except the Lord Buildeth the House</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2010/10/8/except-the-lord-buildeth-the-house.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-10-09T00:27:30Z</dc:date><dc:subject>praise song</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="_mcePaste">Except the Lord buildeth the house,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste">they labor in vain that build it.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste">Except the Lord buildeth the house,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste">they labor in vain that build it.</div>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<div id="_mcePaste">The Lord will not suffer evil to prosper,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste">Nor the prideful to lift up his arm.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste">The Lord will not stumble at sin's slight power,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste">Nor the flesh to win o'er His great might.</div>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2010/9/24/as-i-wait-patiently.html"><rss:title>As I Wait Patiently</rss:title><rss:link>http://blog.robertroskam.com/blog/2010/9/24/as-i-wait-patiently.html</rss:link><dc:creator>Robert R.</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-09-24T16:00:05Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>As I wait patiently,</p>
<p>night's twinkling eyes wonder at me,</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>As I wait patiently,</p>
<p>the hand of the wind tugs lightly at me,</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>As I wait patiently,</p>
<p>the dust under my feet urges me.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>As I wait patiently,</p>
<p>a little voice speaks to me.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>"Number the wanderers in heaven if you can."</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>I cannot.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>"Number the dust under foot if you can."</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>I cannot.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>"Tell me the end of their ways if you can."</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>I cannot.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>"It is well. Then I'll tell you wondrous things because I am."</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item></rdf:RDF>
