michael Smajda Poems

Every year
Without you, dear,
Brings to each eye
A remembrance tear
...

I'm not as young
As I use to be
Or want to live
To a century-
...

When I was born,
How I would turn out
Would be a mystery.
Now, that I have lived
...

Where have all the funny men gone
That have made us laugh, evening's long,
Told jokes, well said, that meant no harm
In lieu of today's, lacking charm.
...

How can so few
(Pardon the rhyme)
Destroy this nation
In such short time?
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A poet is one
Of many words.
Some writ profound,
Some absurd.
...

The piano has many keys.
Each with its own distinctive sound.
When properly played together,
You, the piano will astound.
...