James H. Smith


Hello and goodbye not needed for some, they are always with us to stay.
Near or far, never seen again in this time, they affect us in many ways.
A warrior falls in a far off land, down as the battles just begun.
Doing what his country asked; no one to mourn him, Wife, Daughter, nor Son,
Only those who called him friend, warriors all, brothers of the gun.
What last thoughts crossed his mind, was it should I have stood or run?
Fisherman then Warrior, “When I’m through here” he said “again a Fisherman I’ll be.”
With the ocean below, he sleeps now on a hill overlooking his beloved sea.
Years have passed, I’m older now; with me life has had its way.
Still I see him in my mind young, always the same, as on that last day.
Over the years I have gone to him to talk and just sit from time to time.
Friendship all that matters; then, as now, little to say, many things on the mind
How would the world have changed, if that day it had been I not he that found their end?
We’re not to know, as time goes its way.
But for now, a single red rose I bring to lay, remembrance of a friend.

James H. Smith: A Single Rose