“This is the place,”  the prophet said,

And gave a wave at the land ahead,

While his weary flock stared numb, in dread,

At the bleak and barren vale, instead’


“This is the place? Some asked each other,

Quietly, not to challenge their Brother,

For if he said this is the place,

To disagree would be a disgrace.


Before them lay a fallow land

But soon they would come to understand,

The prophet chose what no one would covet,

They’d build up this land and learn to love it.


And so a mighty empire grew,

And the prophet’s words today ring true,

By dint of work and God’s good grace,

They came to know that this was their place.


Sandra Lee Smith,

Originally written in 2010,

Updated October, 26, 2018




Sandra Lee Smith


There may  be days

when you get up in the morning,

and things aren’t the way

you had hoped they would be;

That’s when you have to

tell yourself that things will get better.


There may be times when people

disappoint you and let you down,

but those are the times

when you must remind yourself

to trust your judgements and opinions,

and to keep your life focused on believing in yourself

and all that you are capable of accomplishing;


There will be challenges to face

and changes to make in your life,

and it is up to you to accept them;

Constantly keep yourself headed

in the right direction for you.

It may not be easy at times,

but in those times of struggle,

you will find a stronger sense of who you are,

and you will also see yourself

developing into the  person

you have always wanted to be.

Life is a  journey through time,

filled with many choices;

each of us will experience life

in his or her own personal way.

so when the days come that are filled

with frustration and unexpected responsibilities,

remember to believe in yourself

and all you want your life to be

because the challenges and changes

will only help you to find the dreams

that you know are meant to come true for you.


Sandra Lee Smith

Originally posted, January, 2010,

Updated October 26, 2018




Girlfriends, boyfriends,–

no one expects a fleeting goodbye to be the last one;

and often, one hears somebody say

“I never really got to say goodbye”.

As we grow older,

and loved ones pass over, leaving us behind

to wonder where they have really gone,

that final goodbye takes on an entirely

different meaning;

Goodbye, farewell, adieu,

Adios, arrivederci, Ciao,

Auf Wiedersehen

Sayonara, Salam, Au Revoir,

Aloha, Hasta la Vista,

in any language, “goodbye” leaves an aching place

in  your heart.

Sandra Lee Smith

Originally posted February, 2009

Updated October 21, 2018



“The problems that exist in the world today cannot be solved by the level of thinking that created them” – Albert Einstein














The boot was made of very fine leather,

Tooled by an ancient Italian craftsman,

who had learned bootmaking from his father,

and his father before him,

generations of Italian bootmakers

who purchased the best leather

and refused to bend to accommodate the times.

A pair of boots might take six months to make

from start to finish,

With intricate carvings worked into the leather.

I was that boot, made of fine brown leather;

with a very dark wooden heel

and a great deal of design carved into the leather;

First I was worn by an Italian clothing designer,

a man quite fussy with his appearance,

Gay, you might say, but he took good care of me,

and I was cleaned and polished once a week

by his manservant.

When the designer changed his “look” I was

discarded but the manservant rescued me and

sold me, and my twin,

to a used clothing store

where a cowboy discovered us

and took us to America;

There I lived on a cattle ranch

and was often scuffed and dirty,

but it was an exciting life and I didn’t mind

the grit and soil.  When my cowboy removed

us from his feet at night, we all sighed with relief.

For a while we could breathe.

Eventually, the cowboy had worn down my heel

and there was a hole in my sole,

that no amount of cardboard could remedy,

the cowboy tossed me and my twin

into a dumpster, where we languished

for a time.

and then–a gardener found me and pulled me

out of the trash;

I do not know what happened to my twin.

The gardener took me to his home

and filled me up with dirt

and then added cacti;

I had a new life;

I was a planter,

willing to stand in the rain

or the sun

protecting the cactus that

happily grew out of the top.


Sandra Lee Smith

Originally posted June 5, 2009

Updated October 20, 2018


I thought it was easily the ugliest building

That I had ever seen,

And when Mr. Frapp, the lawyer, told me it was


I wanted to lay my head down on his pristine

Desktop and cry.

Of course, I couldn’t do that.

“You should be happy!” Attorney Frapp scolded me

As he noted the distress on my face.

“Of course it needs a little work,” he said. “But

What a wonderful inheritance from your

Great Aunt Gertrude!”

I didn’t even like Great-Aunt Gertrude and

I’m sure she knew it. How like her to bequeath

This ancient old falling-down building to me,

Where she had lived in solitary splendor

On the top floor.

My mother, may she rest in peace, took me

To see Great-Aunt Gertrude once when I was a

Little girl; there was absolutely nothing to

do but sit on a chair and sip tea and eat

Stale cookies that Auntie referred to as “biscotti”.

The apartment building should have gone

To my mother. How very like mama to die first

And leave me to deal with this disgusting inheritance.

Finally, Mr. Frapp, who had been tapping his pen

Against a sheet of paper on his desk, mildly suggested,

“You could always sell, I suppose – I might even

Have someone interested in buying the building

From you.”

SELL? My ears perked up and I sat up straighter/

I hadn’t given a thought about selling!

“How much do you think I can get for it?”

I eagerly asked Attorney Frapp.

Sandra Lee Smith




We always lived in the lighthouse.

Where my daddy was the lighthouse keeper,

And though times were tough

And we didn’t have any close-by neighbors,

There was always enough to eat,

For daddy was a fisherman too,

And could catch something for mama to fry

For supper,

To go with cornbread muffins.

We had clams and shrimp and oysters,

And even lobster a-plenty

And even had seafood for breakfast.

It was daddy’s job to light the lanterns

At the top of the lighthouse,

Where the Fresnel lens reflected the lantern light,

And made it brighter and stronger,

Able to reach far out on the ocean;

My daddy took this job seriously,

And we were a happy little family,

Living in the little house alongside

The lighthouse.

Until one day someone

From the coast guard came to visit daddy

And said they no longer would need

A lighthouse keeper,

Because the lighthouses were “going electric”.


We didn’t quite know what this meant, “going electric”,

But we understood that daddy no longer had a job,

Mama cried, and I cried, and baby brother cried too,

But baby didn’t know why, he just cried because

We were crying.

Daddy said now, mama, don’t you fret,

I’ll think of something,

But you know, times were bad

And jobs were hard to come by,

Eventually, mama took baby and me

And we got on a bus that took us a long ways away,

To a farm in a town in Missouri,

Where my grammy and grandpa lived

And where mama came from,

And sometimes said she never planned to go back to,

But here was plenty to eat and milk to drink from the cow,

So baby and I never went hungry,

But you know, they never

Had clams or shrimp or oysters or lobster,

Out here in Missouri,

Only beef and pork.

I never did learn if daddy

Had thought of something.

We never saw him again.


For Becky, because we loved lighthouses.—Sandra Lee Smith


Sandra Lee Smith

Originally posted April 19, 2009

Updated October 20, 2018