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Collection of Poems

Edward Smith

Put Christ back in CHRISTMAS

All the heavens came alive it seems
with a bright celestial light
when an angel came to shepherds
tending flocks of sheep one night
he told them of the Christmas Child
who was born in Bethlehem
and He called the child the son of God
Then He praised His holy name

Lets put the Christ back in Christmas
Lets honor His presence with prayer
Lets put the Christ back in Christmas
Christ is the reason Christmas is here

The shepherds left their flocks that night
For the stable of the inn
To wonder at this child who came
to take away our sin
They found HIM wrapped in swaddling clothes
And they noticed that He lay
In a simple wooden manger
on a bed of straw and hay

Through the ages times have changed it seems
Traditions have been set
With Santa Clause and Christmas trees
How often we forget
Though Christmas trees and Santa Claus
Are really very nice
We wouldn’t have a Christmas
If it weren’t for Jesus Christ


Christians raise their hands in praise
they bow their heads in prayer
they chant a phrase from bygone days
and deep within …they care

But while they’re looking upward
praising God in varied sound
I wonder if most understand
whats really going down

Have they known that single mom
with baby in her arms
who’s been turned away from welfare
and is forced to sell her charms

Did they see that nice old fella
wearing rags to fend the cold
having dinner in a dumpster
while his stomachs full of mold

Have they heard that needed welfare cheque
was late again today
now the poor will wait til Christmas past
to see the light of day

Have they ever felt frustration
due to hunger and to cold
when greedy men and winter wind
have taken of their toll
Merry Christmas everyone
and may the Christ child this day born
protect you from such poverty
that brings on Christmas Mourn.


I grew up kinda bitter like
Angry for quite a spell
And I kept my feelings deep inside
Didn’t think anyone could tell
Never did get close to alot of folks
Sorta kept to a special few
So not many did get close to me
And a wall of coldness grew
There was a numbness way down deep within
Like a void within a shell
I could not feel the joy of love
That others could so well
No journey planned yet miles were spent
In search of who and why
Then someone taught me how to pray
And i looked up towards the sky
I felt a change come over me
and I keep on changing still
And it seems each time I turn around
I feel a brand new thrill
The numbness deep inside is gone
And I’m a Christian now
At last I feel the warmth of love
Jesus taught me how


Someone soon is coming…
Far greater He than I
That I’m not fit to be his slave
For, with water I baptize
Yet He that comes will cleanse you
With that which means the most
The blessings of our Father God
Through heavens Holy Ghost
Then Jesus came from Nazareth
To be, by John baptized
And when he left the water
He saw an opening in the skies
Twas then the Holy Spirit
Descended as a dove
and landed on this person
We call the prince of love
And then a voice from heaven
Proclaimed I’d guess with might
“You are my beloved Son
You are my delight”
Twas then Isaiah prophecy
Became a living thing
That God use John the Baptist
To baptize Christ the king


I’d wander round with drink in hand
through alcoholic daze
with eyes half mast I’d light a joint
and stumble through a haze
I’d paste a smile upon my face
and I’d hug the furniture
But if you asked who I was
I really wasn’t sure

I’d cross this land by way of thumb
or in the bowels of some train
Each town would see me settle down
Then pack and move again
I thought that satisfaction
was one more move away
I searched for something tangible
But WHAT….I couldn’t say

I imagined that a womens love
would save me from the world
So I made my life a desperate search
for that understanding girl
I tried so hard and when at last
I felt my search would end
She’d fall for some smooth ROMEO
and…I was just a friend

My tears soon turned to anger
My hurt to bitterness
I formed a hardness round my heart
and honed it with finesse
I traded trust for caution
true feelings I would hide
very few got close to me
’cause I would leave if someone tried

But my heart cried out in anguish
as each lonely year passed by
In public I would just laugh it off
But in private I would just cry
I would dull the pain with alcohol
Til the time i learnt to toke
and that’s when I felt peacefulness
and less like a walking joke

But peace induced is not true peace
Nor is it happiness
It only tends to cloud the truth
and leave ones life a mess
All too soon the problem
will raise its ugly head
this time its much larger
with the new lies its been fed

Nearly forty years of life passed by
before I learnt the way
I found a friend who really cared
and she taught me how to pray
these eyes that seemed so closed so long
were opened with a start
I have found the path to peace at last
I have asked CHRIST into my heart


I pause to think what might be said
When our children’s children long are dead
And we reduced to Sentiments of Time.
Will what we deem today so wise
Be merely folly in the eyes
Of those who find our bones a’cake with grime?
Will generations yet to be
Who study us in history
Dwell merely on our Politics of Shame …
Then, cast our lot and all who rule
As power-mad, corrupt and cruel?
If so, I wonder where they’ll place such blame?
And, I wonder too, as pen finds page,
Will we, as Mankind come of age
And work together for the good of all?
Or, has the fate of Man been cast
To shun the lessons of the past …
If so, then sure as hell we’re going to fall!
What will be our legacy
As we succumb to history?
Will we take our final bow with heads held high?
Or, will we bow our heads in shame …
Embarrassed to be called by name?
The answer, friend, is up to you and I.

I pause to think what might be said
When our children’s children long are dead …
And, we reduced to Sentiments of Time.


When your head is on your pillow
And you’re trying hard to sleep,
But, your belly’s just a’burnin’
And it damn near makes you weep …
When the food you ate at bedtime
Seems a solid, churnin’ mass;
Then it helps to flip the bedsheet,
Lift your leg and … Pass The Gas!

When you’re strolling down the sidewalk
And the weather’s cold and damp,
And that old midriff starts churning
And you’re doubled o’er in cramp …
When each step you take is painful
And the hurtin’ just won’t ease;
Well, it doesn’t hurt to lift your skirt,
Take a breath and … Cut The Cheese!

When the party’s all but over
And cleanup has begun,
And you can’t convince your system
That you really did have fun …
When the tightness in your tummy
Holds you in its potent grip;
Sorta helps to grab the bedpost;
Hang on tight and … Let ‘er Rip!

Now, should you feel elation
From your bouts of flatulation;
Don’t try to hide the smile that comes your way.
For, that moment of relief
Saves you from a ton of grief …
Just … Pass the Gas; Wipe your ass
And … walk away.


We solve the problems of the world
And … of our neighbourhood
While sittin’ at a table
Near an old stove burnin’ wood.
We sip our tea or coffee
As we phi-los-o-phy …
And, then we feed our fantasy
With homemade rappie pie.

It’s at the kitchen table
After supper, every night
Where a bunch of good friends gather
Rappin’ ‘cross a candle’s light.
We listen to the winds that roar
And wail across the bay …
Sittin’ at the kitchen table
Sippin’ mugs of steamin’ tea.

The Summer brings the lobster boils
And clam bakes in the sand.
Starry nights and campfire lights
Send shadows ‘cross the land.
But, when the weather’s cold and damp,
There’s just one place to go …
Back to the kitchen table
Rappin’ ‘cross that candle’s glow.

We listen to the radio
‘Til shadows start to fall
Along the kitchen table,
‘Cross the floor and up the wall.
Then, we sip our tea or coffee
And we phi-los-o-phy …
Sittin’ at that kitchen table
Eatin’ homemade rappie pie.

And it’s … at the kitchen table
After supper, every night
Where a bunch of good friends gather
Rappin’ cross a candle’s light.
We listen to the winds that roar
And wail across the bay …
Sittin’ at the kitchen table
Sippin’ mugs of steamin’ tea.


One foot follows the other.
The wind’s a biting chill.
My coat’s threadbare and worn to lint
And my mind will not stay still.
To a place that houses homeless.
That shelter from the storm
For a short respite where a body might
Feel the wealth of warm.
But, cold is a constant companion
For we who drift through time …
Judged by they … the priviledged few …
Who deem us riddled with crime.
Out on the street before sunup.
Back when the sun leaves the sky.
Too proud to beg the cost of an egg …
Yet, so hungry you just want to cry.

Yeah … one foot follows the other.

Dancin’ With The Blues

Chorus and ending

There ain’t no solace in the bottle.
The bottle’s just for holdin’ booze.
If you empty it too quick, that booze will make you sick
And, that’ll get you Dancin’ With The Blues.

Honey, you ain’t got a clue who loves you.
Honey, I don’t even think you care.
Honey, you just a’clingin’ to that bottle
An’ you think you gonna get Salvation there.
Now, don’t you go on thinkin’ you’re an island.
That’s just the misconception from the booze.
‘Cause, if you keep believin’, you gonna keep on grievin’
An’ you’ll just keep on Dancin’ With The Blues.

Now, the faithless, well they all get religion.
It’s the crutch they use to twist around God’s views.
They seem to take delight conspiring thru the night
Then, spreading ‘round their sick, self-rightious news.
And, you,Babe … well, you just chose to listen.
But, you’ve only got your decency to lose.
If you could just stop drinkin’, you might get back to thinkin’
‘Til then, you’ll just be Dancin’ With The Blues.

Now, you tell me your love for me is over.
You tell me you don’t want me around.
I think you should know better than the words there in your letter
Where you take the time to tear me down.
You listenin’ to half truths and lies
And all you’ll get is alibis
Should you ever want to see some proof.
‘Til then, you’ll keep on livin’ in your world of unforgivin’
And, you’ll just keep on Dancin’ With The Blues.

The Government Coffers
(They ring Ka-Ching)

Billions in hand. We’re rich, my friends.
Soon, we will see all this poverty end.
Soon … we will have all this surplus in hand …
Ka-Ching Ka-Ching Ka-Ching

The Government Coffers
They ring ka-ching
They ring for the taxes
They raise every Spring.
They ring for the money
Those taxes will bring …
Yes … The government coffers
They ring ka-ching.

The food lines grow longer
The richer we grow
And, promises given
Arrive too damn slow.
But, you can’t find compassion
For what you don’t know.
Ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching

The lies have been given;
The ballots are in.
And, all the excuses
Are set to begin.
Y’know, you face desperation
When you know you can’t win.
Ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching

Too much of our money
Is siphoned off-shore
To avoid all the taxes
Imposed on the Poor.
Crime often follows
The wolf at the door.
Ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching

This high cost of living
Drives many insane
And, this war on the Poor
Only adds to the shame.
You can’t know the loss
With your eye just on gain.
Ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching

Those hospital line-ups
Would be a lot less,
And, the crime rate would lessen
By half, I dare guess.
If only we weren’t so
Financially depressed!
Ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching


Comes the time that I reach Sunset
And my rainbow’s pot o’ gold …

That pot of precious memories.

More precious when retold.

I pray that God will guide me, still

As my soul goes ramblin’ on …

Forgiving me of all my sins

As I reach that Great Beyond.

My mind, right now, recalls a time.

A time when we were young …

Sittin’ near an old wood burning stove.

How sweet the songs we sung.

We faced the brilliant sunrise, then

Choosing hope instead of despair …

And we forded all Life’s little streams

When the bridges were not there.

‘Seems the years go by with a single sigh

And precious more than gold …

Are the times well spent with friends we’ve known

And, the memories we hold.

Our Sunset is our Guiding Light

And it’s up to us my dear friend …
As to how we look at the Mirror of Life

When we reach our Rainbow’s end.

Comes the time that I reach Sunset

And my rainbow’s pot o’ gold …

That pot of precious memories.

More precious when retold.

I pray that God will guide me, still

As my soul goes ramblin’ on …

Forgiving me of all my sins

As I reach that Great Beyond.

For Me

I’m graced by the presence of somebody special.
Someone I know I can be.
Someone I’m learning to love with great passion.
I’m graced by the presence of me.

Now, one might peruse these words that I choose
And deem me, at least, a bit vain.
But, then … who can say? Perhaps there’ll be they
Who will see why I chose this refrain.
Y’see, love has to start in the depths of one’s heart
And grow through the passage of time
‘Til it bursts from the soul all healthy and whole!
Like a rhythm endowed with a rhyme.
E’er the bards will evoke the words that are wrote
In that tattered, old book on your shelf
That the best love of all is the love one can call
From the depths of the love in one’s self.

So … stand tall and true. Be proud to be you.
Be graced by the presence you pose.
For, the best love, by far, is the person you are
When the thorn bush of life produces it’s rose.

E.W. Smith


I’m Scrapin’ Bottom


Payday’s almost two week’s old …

Another’s nearly due.

The fridge is damned near empty;

The penny jar’s gone through.

I’m soppin’ up the gravy

With bread that’s almost blue …

Good Lord, I’m scrapin’ bottom

The way us po’ folk do.


Good Lord, I’m scrapin’ bottom.

‘Can’t afford to fill my cup.

I just can’t wait ‘til payday

To change this … lack of luck.

There’ll be no more scrapin’ bottom

After payday for awhile …

For a week or so, come rain or snow

I’m gonna fill my cup and smile.

I miss my mornin’ coffee …

All out of herbal tea.

I walk around and make a sound

That sounds like Woe is me!

The cupboard’s all but barren;

‘Just this here can of stew …

Good Lord, I’m scrapin’ bottom

The way us po’ folk do.

A po’ man’s pay is pathetic …

Too soon the damn thing’s spent.

But, in a day or two I’ll be packin’ stew

And dishin’ out the rent.

And, the cupboard won’t be empty;

There’ll be things for my hands to do …

And, I won’t be scrapin’ bottom.

‘Least … not for a week or two!

(repeat chorus)



Come on down to Paradise

And spend some time

‘Neath Yarmouth skies …

Where peaceful dreams

So oft come true

As you gaze upon the setting sun

From the rock called Cape Forchu

There’s a little place called Yarmouth

On the rocky, southern shore

Of a land called Nova Scotia

‘Midst the mighty ocean’s roar.

She’s protected by her lighthouse

On the rock called Cape Forchu

And, her arms are always open

To share her warmth and love with you.

There are beaches shining silver

‘Neath a blue, Atlantic sky

And, Chestnut trees wave at the breeze

With a whisper and a sigh.

Heaven opened up one day,

And, what the angels saw

When God formed Nova Scotia

Made them shake their heads in awe.

In that little place called Yarmouth,

If you take the time to spend,

You will find there are no strangers …

Only those you’ll know as friend.

And, when the time for you to leave us

Finally takes you by the hand …

Know that … here in Nova Scotia

You’ll be welcome back, again.

So, come on down to Paradise …

And, spend some time

‘Neath Yarmouth skies.



They stand basking in the brilliance

Of a midday Autumn sun.

The reds; the golds … the yellows;

The changing has begun.

Those stately elms and maples,

In their majesty, surround

The blue and crystal waters

That echo sky and ground.

There embraced by fauna fair,

Mid’st the shadows of the land,

A cabin carved in manner such

It seem’d like nature planned.

Beyond the layer’d outer crust

And, deep within the shell

Peace and Love rule hand-in-hand

To cast a magic spell.

A fireplace with log a’blaze

Lights up a decored den

And gives one pause to close one’s eyes;

Breathe deep … then, breathe, again.

The anxious mind’s at last at rest.

The heart is calmed and soothed.

Alone, or with your chosen few

In peaceful solitude.



Hi there, Son;

Welcome to your new home.

Go say hi to Mother …

She’s in the other room.

It’s an answer to a Father’s prayer

To see you home again.

How long’s it been? Nigh twenty years?

My, you sure have changed since then.

Ahh … there’ll be time enough for talkin’

After dinner’s o’er tonight.

But, now we’d best go down the way

To welcome home your wife.

Yes, son … we saw the accident.

‘Twas such an awful scene …

But, look … you’re here at home, now.

Much worse, it could have been.

Now, let’s go pick up Katy!

You’ve done real well by her.

Those kids of yours are dandies.

They’ll grow up fine, fer sure!

Yeah … we’ve really missed you, fella.

To get in touch with you, we tried.

But, we couldn’t … so, we made this our home

And, we’ve done quite well

Since the day we died.

Those Honky-Tonk Blues


I’m lighting up my pipe; I’ve got my feet on a chair …

My head is on my pillow and it’s comfortable there.

I have never been so happy ‘til I changed all my views …

And, caught this thing I like to call

Those Honky-Tonk Blues.

I used to wake up somewhere near a local bar …

Curled up in the back seat of a cold, damp car.

I would stumble through my doorway and pass out on the floor …

And, then I’d wake up in the morning just to lock my front door.

My honey used to nurse me back to being a man …

And, then she used to curse me for the fool that I am.

Yeah … I have never been this happy ‘til I changed those old views …

And caught these sweet and everloving Honky-Tonk Blues.

Now, I pass that Honky-Tonk just smiling inside …

I’m filled with so much happiness and bustin’ with pride.

Yes … my baby treats me better since I conquered that booze …

And caught … God bless ‘em … Those Honky-Tonk Blues.

Life gets so much better

With Those Honky-Tonk Blues.


What do you say
Come welfare day
When I go get my groceries
With my welfare pay

When my sons and my daughters
Need pens and books just for school
What do I tell them Mr Harris
That our Premier is a fool

When he cuts money from the poor
But won’t touch the rich
What kind of heart does he have
To make people live in the ditch

In the men’s hostels from Hell
For 112 dollars they prayed
This is what they lived on
Now it’s a 7 dollar pay

So now beggars in the street
New crime that you force
But Mr Harris thought about this
That’s his intelligent course

New jobs you will create
In new jails we will need
Prostitution and drugs will grow
From your demon seed

The educational programs
And job training we need
One of the most intelligent nations
Even the minds will you bleed

‘Til our society does crumble
This must be your master plan
Until this once great nation
See you as the next “Son of Sam”


A View From The Blind Side
E.W. Smith

One foot follows the other.
The wind is a biting chill.
My coat’s threadbare and worn to lint
And, my mind will not stay still.
To a place that houses homeless.
That shelter from the storm,
For a short respite where a body might
Feel the wealth of warm.
But, cold is a constant companion
For we who drift through time …
Judged by they … the privileged few
Who deem us riddled with crime.
Out on the street before sun-up.
Back when the sun leaves the sky.
Too proud to beg the cost of an egg …
Yet … so lonely you just want to cry.

Yeah, one foot follows the other …


Early Christmas Morn
E.W. Smith

The lights have been strung along Main Street.
Store windows are aptly adorned.
The music we hear is of seasonal cheer …
It’s early Christmas morn.

Stockings, once stuffed, now lay empty.
Young faces are all flushed with glee
As the family sits opening presents
Placed ‘neath a lit Christmas tree.
Family and friends start appearing.
They sit near the fire keeping warm.
Eggnogs and fruitcake and cookies that Mom baked …
It’s early Christmas morn.

Gift wrap and ribbon lay tattered
In bunches all over the floor.
Breakfast is done and it’s time for more fun …
It’s early Christmas morn.

The bells in the chapel are pealing.
Bright faces are filling the pews.
And, the songs that the choirs are singing
Are happy and fill’d with good news.
The long distance phone calls have started.
Warm words of cheer being formed.
God bless you. I love you … and, I really miss you …
It’s early Christmas morn.

Sleighs pulled by horses are gliding
‘Cross meadows where snowdrifts have formed.
Caroles are sung. Mistletoe is hung …
It’s early Christmas morn.

Merry Christmas, Everyone.

Mom and Dad
E.W. Smith

‘Wasn’t much more than a kid, myself,
When Junior came along.
That’s when I first learned to change a diaper.
And, yes … I got it wrong.
We would wheel that child all over town
In that old carriage Mary had …
How proud we felt when that child learned to say:
I wuv you, Mom and Dad.

Time sure flies … I’m tellin’ ya.
The kid was turning five.
We registered our son in the neighbourhood school
And we watched the young fellow strive.
He got on well with the kids his age
And, was soon a Grade School Grad.
When he walked on stage, he mouthed us these words:
I love you, Mom and Dad.

Those teenage years sure are tough.
They certainly were for me.
So, at times when he tripped on some mental bump,
We just let bygones be.
He would play his summer baseball games
And would try each passing fad.
And, our eyes would shine each time he’d say:
I love you, Mom and Dad.

Yeah … time sure passes quickly.
He started dating Julie-Anne.
And, before we knew what was happening,
They had their wedding planned.
We were slow to offer our blessings
Tho, deep down inside we were glad.
When we did, he smiled with those six precious words:
I love you, Mom and Dad.

The big day came and the church was full.
‘Came the groom and his stunning bride.
I was so overwhelmed with so many thoughts,
And, yes … I’ll admit it. I cried.
Then came the big reception.
We were as happy as heck … also sad.
How we smiled when they uttered those six little words:
We love you, Mom and Dad.

Mary and I are grandparents, now
And, those kids are nearly all grown.
We have this old house all to ourselves
But, seldom are we all alone.
The kids would come by and we’d laugh and we’d cry
At the up-to-date news that they had.
When leaving, they’d whisper those heart-warming words:
We love you, Mom and Dad.

Well, Time gets the better of all of us
And, Mary and I got the call.
No sadness required. We’ve had a good life
And, we seem to be loved by all.
Each week, our kids drive out to our home
To talk of the week they just had.
Then, those beautiful words, they leave on our tomb:
We love you, Mom and Dad.


The Cleaner Of The Can
E.W. Smith

When you’re sitting all alone
On that shiny, porcelain throne
And you find that paper tissue is at hand
You look around and what you see
Is just as shiny as can be …
It makes you proud to be the cleaner of the can.

You will rub and you will scrub
Toilet, sink and tub
And you’ll rid the floor of all that grime and sand.
You may work throughout the night
But, when you’re done it’s clean and bright …
It makes you proud to be the cleaner of the can.

Take the trash. Replace the bag.
Wash the sinks out with a rag.
Make sure you’ve got a broom and a good dustpan.
Take a mop and wash the floor.
Wipe the handprints off the door …
It makes you proud to be the cleaner of the can.

The mirrors need a buff
So you take your window stuff
And you rub until there’s blisters on your hand.
When comes the time to take a peek
And everything is clean and sleek …
It makes you proud to be the cleaner of the can.

As your shift comes to a close
And it’s time to change your clothes
And you find out that your boss is your best fan,
Well, it fills your heart with pride
And you feel so good inside …
It makes you proud to be the cleaner of the can.

Winds Of Freedom
E.W. Smith

I can feel the Winds of Freedom on the rise.
And, They’re blowing clouds of darkness from our skies.
Someday, soon, we’re going to see
How this Earth was meant to be
For, the Dove of Peace is learning how to fly.

I can sense the Breath Of Love drift thru the trees
And, it’s picking up and spreading with each breeze.
Our skies will soon be clear and blue
As the Rays of Hope shine thru
Bringing with them seeds of Happiness and Ease.

I can hear the Shouts of Glory in the air
And, the shouting’s getting louder as people learn to care.
Love is bringing us together;
Peace is strengthening the tether
And Hope is ours to take. And Hope is ours to share.

I can feel the Winds of Freedom on the rise
And, I can see the seeds take root before my eyes.
And, I know it won’t be long
Before we celebrate in song
That the Dove of Peace is learning how to fly.

Yes, I can feel the Winds of Freedom on the rise.

You Just Never Know
E.W. Smith

I had just pulled in the city
Off a long and winding road.
I was bent and tired and dirty
And carrying a heavy load.
I was looking for the shelter
That harbors men like me
In dire need of a shower
And long overdue for something to eat.
I was cold and it was windy
And, I cursed what I called fate.
For the wind was getting to me
And the hour was getting late.
I was approaching a small cathedral
And saw upon the stairs
A cold and shivering little girl
All awash in tears.
It touched my heart to see her there
So sad and oh, so alone
Clutching a little rag teddy bear.
I asked her if she shouldn’t be home.
It seems that her dad was a drinking man
With a tendency toward the cruel.
To abandon a child in a manner like that
Gave me reason to call him a fool.
He had taken this child to the doors of this church
And told her to never come home.
When I found her she was shivering and bitterly cold
And frightened and … so very alone.
I threw down my backpack and rifled inside.
‘Wasn’t much there, all the same.
So, I sat down beside her and took off my coat
Which I wrapped ‘round her shivering frame.
I picked up the child and walked to the manse
Where a priest finally opened the door.
I wept as I related what I’d come upon by chance
For it touched me as nothing has ever before.
I’d been moaning all day ‘bout the troubles I’d had.
Self pity can easily flow …
I thought my life tough ‘til I found that young child.
My God … You just never know!

The Lost Highway
E.W. Smith

Hank, he wrote about it,
So, I should have seen the signs.
But, when it comes to loving,
I guess my heart is blind.
I really should have listened
‘Cause, now I’m old and grey ….
Just stumbling down that lonely line
They call The Lost Highway.

It ain’t no sense regretting
The turns I’ve made thru life
And, I’ve got no time for fretting
On the turns that turned to strife.
My woes are far from over.
‘Guess they’ll never go away ….
A heavy load down a winding road
They call The Lost Highway.

If I had listened closely
To the sense my forebears made,
I would have found a peaceful town,
Settled down and stayed.
But, God made me a ramblin’ man
And, I guess that’s why, today ….
I find myself on this lonely road
They call The Lost Highway.

Hank, he wrote about it
So, I should have seen the signs.
But, when it comes to loving,
I guess my heart is blind.
I really should have listened
‘Cause, now I’m old and grey ….
Just stumbling down that lonely line
They call The Lost Highway.

If There Is No Tomorrow
E.W. Smith

I watched you walk away, my friend,
With heaviness of heart.
For, Time has touched the two of us
And, I grieve each time we part.
Once we were rebellious folk.
A’breast of every fray!
Now, … the tides of life have drifted in
And, washed our youth away.
We scaled the heights of freedom
And, we relished every stage!
Life became our paper;
Each day … a brand new page.
Now … our tides are waning
From that old, familiar pier …
And, each time we say that old goodbye
I choke back a brand new tear.
For … how many more tomorrows
Are we to have in store
Before God puts our frail ships
To berth at Heaven’s shore?
No … it’s not a sign of weakness
That makes me want to cry …
You are my best friend in this whole damned world
And it hurts to say goodbye.

The angels took you home, my friend.
To God’s celestial touch …
And, I just want to say, in my very own way
I Love You Very Much.


Beware the ides of Harper and his government of greed.
They are robbing good Canadians and leaving them in need.
His puppet masters lead him and tell him what to say.
He is not there for you nor me … he’s in it for the pay.
Somebody pulls the puppet strings that Mulroney put in place.
Conservatives are anti-Canadian … and that’s a National disgrace.
Yes … we do need prisons …. for the hypocrites we hire;
For the trust we give come voting time to wind up with a liar.
We must be rid of Harper and his cronies must be sacked.
If we REALLY care for freedom, we must take our country back.
And, in our Constitution we must add another rule …
If a Prime Minister is merely there for the power, we can fire the bloody fool.
And, it’s thanks to our elected Conservatives who get greedier with age …
That we should force ALL politicians to live and work for MINIMUM WAGE!!!

E.W. Smith

Tho I can’t count my riches in silver or gold,
I’ve been bless’d with great memories …
Some, yet to be told.
I’ve been bless’d with great friendships
That last past the grave …
Good, down-to-earth people whose love I yet crave.
I’ve been bless’d with good health,
And a good, healthy mind …
And, a good disposition; both, caring and kind.
I’ve been bless’d by sound wisdom
That comes, often, thru strife …
And, when all’s said and done … I’ve had a good life.
No, I don’t count my riches
In silver and gold
Yet, I believe that I have so much more to behold.
For, the trails I have seen
‘Neath the heavens above
Have given me wisdom and bless’d me with Love.

Y’know … we’ve a lot of brilliant people
In our country and at the helm.
People who are schooled to the teeth …
But, are they ready to rule the realm?
Now, the thinkers and the scholars are needed.
Of that, there is no doubt.
But, it’s the doers who fund the rising debt
That the thinkers should be thinking about.
There seems to be a separation ‘twixt text and common toil …
One thinks up more ways to spend
While the others dig for oil.
Now, doesn’t it seem good reasonin’
That a garden so lush and fair
Needs the sunshine that the seasons bring
And lots of tender care?
Well, there’s a garden of good Canadians
Who I think the world should meet …
It’s those who, after paying their taxes
Have to choose between shelter or heat.
Now, until you’ve met the devil, my friend,
And, have stared at him face to face
You cannot fully appreciate your God
Who gave you such wealth with humble grace.
Yes … schoolin’ is a necessity.
Of that, there’s really no doubt …
But, learning life from the bottom up
Is what it’s all about.
Ed smith

Truth and love

Are we to be like the Pharisee
with the Scriptures, God has sent
so loudly heard preached the word
yet violate its intent
or do we use his book love the grappling hook
to jerk our brothers in
or sow a seed to a friend in need
and love him in spite of sin
with zealous haste we laid to waste
words God would have us say
for righteous cloud is simply rote
when it turn someone away
God above and shown us his love
in a gentle, caring way
then suffered pains to breaker chains
through Christ on Calvary
he did not cast her sinful past
like water in our face
he simply broke that binding yoke
and blessed us with his grace
are we so wise to criticize
our brothers racked in pain
is this the thing for which our King
our Savior Christ was slain
are we to be so rigidly
bringing out his precious word
or will it be with love and peace
God’s truth through us be heard

EW Smith

The mirror

When I look into a mirror
whose face is it that I see
is it a reflection of my parents
Burr who Christ would have me be
are the eyes that stare right back at me
filled with hate and hurt and pain
or the love and peace and gentleness
that are mining Jesus name
is the multi-seal twisted shot
with bitterness the seal
or is there softness in a smile
that knows that Christ is real
do I detect a hardened heart
all awash like an angry sea
where joyous reassuring heart
that Jesus has set free
there’s just one answer I can give
and it doesn’t take much thought
though I was born by human birth
\my life belongs to God

EW Smith

Silver Roses

I have for you a big bouquet
Of shiny, silver roses.
They’re from the Garden of My Heart
That only love exposes
They’re very rare and fragile,
‘Though they’ll last a lifetime through…
And, as long as you can care for them,
They’ll always bloom for you.

These silver roses came to life
When mankind first begun.
They were brought to life by God, above,
And strengthened by His Son.
In every heart, a seed was dropped,
But, only those who care…
Will see the fruits that God has sown,
And find the Love that’s there.

Now, silver roses represent
A rare, enchanted Love.
A love so sure and yet so pure
‘Cause it comes from God, above.
The seeds were planted years ago,
And, nurtured with His grace…
And, as they grow, you’ll surely know.
You’ll see it in my face.

So, here for you, is a big bouquet
From a garden God has sown.
It represents the truist Love
That man has ever known.
Remember, they’re the fragile kind,
And were freshly picked for you…
And, if you’d care to care for them,
They’ll last a lifetime through.

In praise

One of them. There Christians
I heard an old friend say
and I knew where he was coming from
as I once felt that way
all twisted with confusion
not knowing where to turn
when Jesus touched my hand and said
come to me and learn
then all my fears and sorrows
were taken from my breasts
in praise the name of Jesus
he taught me how to rest
and while I sat there resting
I felt his cleansing start
to radiate all through my soul
to my once rebellious heart
now I praise his everlasting name
and his dwelling place above
four. He took this hard embittered heart
and taught it how to love