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David Smith Poem
Any kind of love worth having,
Understands that disagreements happen,
And does not diminish when the first disagreement surfaces,
No, it will stay around and show its true value,
Not pack a sad and leave the field open to hate and prejudice,
This love that will stand the test of time,
Hold true even in the face of war, or famine,
And will retain its shape, no matter how hard the battering.
Be it for a friend a lover, or a family member, or even a stranger,
Who is in need of this love.
To agree to disagree,
To see both sides of the coin,
And give them equal value,
To recognise that opinions are not good or bad but different,
And not an indication of a wish to do harm,
To understand that thoughts and words and deeds,
All travel at different speeds.
Agreeing to disagree gives us an extra layer of comfort,
That a lesser kind of love will not,
As our thoughts and words can be a close match,
And only our deeds will need to be sometimes kept in check.
All too often do we fail to see,
That this kind of Love does not take kindly to us setting agendas,
Making unreasonable demands,
Or withholding favors,
To get agreements that will always be broken.
This kind of love,
Brings me so much hope,
I am glad I recognized it before it was too late,
So bitterness will not dog my twilight years
As I find plenty to talk about,
With those who have chosen to agree to disagree with me.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2018
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David Smith Poem
Before you reach for your axe,
There are some facts you need to know about flax.
A Flax rope made well
Will get you safely out of the well.
With a little toil,
You can make money from flax seed oil,
Or a basket you should try
If you want to pay off your lay-bye.
You can't go awry
If you make a mat for a Marae (Maori Meeting house)
And many Flax cloaks
Have been made by Maori folk.
Why go to Scotland,
When you can get a Flax kilt in this land.
Your feet will not go rotten,
With Flax on their bottom.
If fishing is your line,
Then a Flax line will do just fine.
And a Flax trap will get you an eel
For your meal.
A drink made from Flax flower nectar
Will need no added sugar.
If you are lucky you may see a Tui (NZ bird) or three
Getting their nectar for free.
Now you have the facts on Flax first hand,
I hope you can see, demand though down,
May yet turn around and jobs could be found.
But if your axe is not yet away,
I have one last thing to say.
A saw with a chain bought from a store,
Will best suit your chore.
I know this for a fact,
As no-one was there when I reached for my axe.
Now I have no Flax and no axe.
No more Tui are within cooee
And my lay-bye has gone bye bye.
It is almost too much to bare,
Until I down more of my favourite beer
And I see a Tui once more.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016
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David Smith Poem
Too Much Technology,
Yet not enough Ecology.
Too much Talking,
And not enough conversation.
Too much planning,
Yet not enough doing.
Too much planting,
And not enough food.
Too many cars,
Yet not enough people.
Too much production,
And not enough consumption.
Too low prices,
Yet not enough quality.
Too much competition,
And not enough co-operation.
Too much of everything,
Yet not enough of anything.
Too much dope,
And not enough hope.
Yet we have had enough reverses,
To know there are enough possibilities,
To negate the oversupply of Procrastinators,
While we still have enough faith in our innovators.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2018
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David Smith Poem
Wake up, wake up, wake up I say.
There are words for you to find
And your poem is yet to get an end.
You slept for too long,
Some words are now long gone.
Others though still hanging in paintings,
Have lost their meanings.
Did you not heed my warnings.
Quickly, quickly now
Let me show you how,
While we still have time and your feelings
Are still living things.
Help save the words and their meanings
But you must use them now.
Abuse them if you must,
But go easy on the lust.
Humour them or wet them with your tears,
While others still have ears.
Whip them if you must,
But don't leave too much dust.
Just get them in line,
While we still have time.
I promise you they will shine for other eyes,
Even if you lie.
There, there don't pull out your hair,
We are nearly there.
You will soon breathe more lightly here.
You have the words in your heart now,
Your soul is soaring now,
Words are pouring back in now,
Their meanings now on show,
For everyone to know
Take out your polishing cloth
It's time for truly beautiful words to come forth
and show their true worth.
The words are back in focus now.
The canvas's are freshly painted now.
Just take time to remember, that the new member,
Encouraged by the old, will let more words unfold,
So their meanings can be told.
There will be no more lamenting,
The words we lost while we were sleeping.
Only new words in numbers beyond counting
With meanings in greater number
To give us such wonder,
As we awaken from our slumber.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016
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David Smith Poem
He forgave the unforgivable,
Loved the unlovable,
Helped the ungrateful,
Taught the unteachable,
And reached the unreachable.
He befriended the friendless,
Gave hope to the hopeless,
Worked with the clueless,
Guided the sightless
And defended the defenceless.
Yet you let him sleep on a rug
And never give him a hug.
You even teach him to beg.
You must be some sort of mug
To expect any more from your dog.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016
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David Smith Poem
She could have hardened her heart to Love,
Her list of disappointments would have hardened lesser hearts,
Instead she cloaked herself with Love,
Enough to keep out the Coldest wind,
Seeing a time when love would Re-awaken her expectant heart.
In the spring she made sure Love's new growth,
Was not strangled by the weeds and vines,
In the Summer she shielded love from the harsh glare of the Sun,
Enjoying its company under her favourite tree.
In the Autumn she swept the leaves from the steps,
So, Love could stay mould free.
In the winter she kept her windows free of ice,
So, others could see Love dwelt there.
Now in her twilight years Love has repaid her with,
The offer of another equally Loving heart.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2019
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David Smith Poem
The devil in a moment of weakness did challenge a poet to a battle of words.
I HEAR YOU ARE AT THE TOP OF YOUR GAME
Said the devil to the poet.
NEVER HAVE TO WEAR A SWORD
Said the poet to the devil
CHALLENGERS' RULES I BELIEVE
Said the devil to the poet
AS LONG AS WORDS ARE OUR ONLY WEAPONS
Said the poet
THEN FOLLOW THESE RULES
Said the devil - "every bad word I use you must turn into good or negate it with another."
"You can use a two syllable word to link your word to mine if you need to."
"If your word trumps mine I will then try to turn your good words into bad"
AGREED Said the poet.
ONE MORE THING Said the devil
I HAVE TAKEN THE WORD LOVE OUT OF THE GAME - WILL YOU STILL AGREE
THAT STILL LEAVES ME WITH FAITH Said the poet
BUT WAIT, WHAT PRIZE ARE WE PLAYING FOR Said the poet
WE WILL JUST BE PLAYING FOR LOVE Said the devil giving a wink that
gave credit to his evil status.
I WILL SEND YOU PACKING BEFORE DAYLIGHT SO YOU CAN GET YOUR BEAUTY SLEEP Said the poet.
The devil placed his first word which was - UNFORGIVING.
The poet promptly trumped it with FORGIVING
Now it was the poets turn to start using the word - HEAVEN.
The devil responding took back his turn with HELL.
Neck and neck they raced on through the night.
Good matching bad and bad matching good.
With dawn fast approaching the devil took his last gamble.
BEAT THIS WORD AND THE PRIZE IS YOURS. Said he with glee.
Putting down the word which was INEVITABLE.
HA HA HA HE HE HE the devil cackled
I WILL SO ENJOY WATCHING LOVE DISAPPEAR FROM YOUR JUICY LITTLE HEART.
The poet gave a gentle bow as these two words he uttered
NOTHING IS
NOTHING IS WHAT barked back the devil
NOTHING IS INEVITABLE replied the poet as he picked up love and placed it close to his heart.
Whereupon the devil disappeared into a fog of fire and brimstone,
Wisely staying away from poets forever - just in case one should ever challenge him to take EVIL out of his game.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016
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David Smith Poem
Books are amazing,
Books can be bamboozling.
Books are cute to the astute,
Books can be the he saviour of the destitute,
Books are educational,
Books can be quite fictional.
Books are gorgeous.,
Books can even be hilarious.
Books are something to invest in,
Books can be just in.
Books are worth keeping,
Books can help in our learning.
Books are yours and mine,
Books can be more than nine.
Books are open to interpretation,
Books can pay for your education.
Books are quite worthwhile,
Books can really be in style.
Books are there for you,
Books can use a good clean from you.
Book are available in various sizes,
Books can wear at different rates.
Books are sometimes marked with an X,
Books can show you a quick fix.
Books are able to guide you from A to Z.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016
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David Smith Poem
She was smart, beautiful and a perfect host
Yet these god given attributes don't explain how she became adored
By most,
With no hate mail in the post.
No, we have to look elsewhere for the reason,
That no matter what the season,
She could appeal to our reason.
Was it the way she talked,
Maybe it was the way she walked,
Or the way she looked at you when she smiled.
No, that was not the reason she was such a hit,
Because like us all she could still throw a fit
And upset a little bit
Could it have been how she treated everyone the same,
Or that she did not use voice or words to shame,
No, these are not reason enough to explain her fame.
To be fair, the reason only becomes clear,
When you have had a hug from her
One that sets your emotions astir
And gives your heart cause to stutter.
Even while knowing anything more is reserved for another.
Many is the time I have seen a hug go to the undeserving,
With genuine feeling,
When the rest of us would have resorted to behaviour less
Appealing.
To think that most of us have yet to grasp the fact,
That a simple hug freely given can change the way others act
And give us all a reason,
To look forward to another season.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2017
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David Smith Poem
It's a time to pack away your sad face,
And slow down the race,
To a walking pace.
It's time to remember the good life,
Put away your knife,
And do something nice.
It's time to play your part,
By showing you have a heart,
So, others won't depart.
It's time to hold off on the advice,
And with your cooking entice,
All but the mice.
It's time to be a good elf,
Not think of yourself,
And come down off the shelf.
It's time to spread some joy around your neighborhood,
Even with the local hood,
It could do you both some good.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2017
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