Mirror on the Wall

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who is the fairest of them all?


I am ?


The image in the mirror that I see

Looks and smiles right back at me

My flaws and blemishes I faintly see

But when I turn and walk away

They are forgotten for another day

James 1:23-25

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who is the fairest of them all?


I am not sure


The image in the mirror is blurred and dark

I am not sure of what I see

Can that image so marred be me?

When one day the Truth be known

Standing face to face before His throne.

I Cor 13:12


Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who is the fairest of them all?


He is!


He is the fairest of ten thousand

The bright and morning Star.

When the image in the mirror

Begins to glow and shine

I know that is His image

That is overtaking mine.

Light to shine in a darkened world

It does not fade in passing time,

Redemption plan for sinful man.


Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who is the fairest of them all?


He is!


He is the fairest of ten thousand,

The bright and morning Star.

II Cor 3:7-11

This poem I wrote after the death of one of my very dearest friends in Cape Town, she was the most hospitable woman I knew and often invited women on their own around for Sunday Lunch and an afternoon of chat and craft work.  We also went out exploring the countryside together and she and her husband were a great support to me during my late husband’s illness.  I was devastated when she suddenly became ill and died just after her seventieth birthday and all the plans we had made for our retirement died with her. I was inspired to write this poem in her honour by a massive Gum tree that grew outside of my home whose one branch had broken in a storm and had had to be removed.  Month on month I saw how this great tree slowly started to heal itself where the branch was cut off and so my grief also slowly healed.

Flights of Love

These few verses of poetry were written at different times, expressing my feelings as I navigated stormy seas in my life. Not particularly good poetry though.


The harbour lights were twinkling
like the twinkle in your eyes
The twinkle soon responded to
An answering spark in mine.
The sparkle of a new love soon turned into a flame
And so the fire smouldered until
We were passionately consumed.
and with the consummation
Will our love turn into ashes
Or will the glow remain?

My kiss inscribed on golden sands
On carpet of foam and crest of wave rides
To meet you on another shore
And our love waits as the time it bides
Until apart we will be no more.

Through the miles and space between us
Through the scorching Lowveld heat
Through the smoking city air
My thoughts wing their way to you
To the shelter of your heart they fly.

Cherished are the moments we have shared
The joys, the pains, the cares
To share with you my dearest
The heights of happiness, the depths of despair
Not for a moment could my heart desist.

©Dvd Tang 2017

Millenium Poem

I thought it might be appropriate at the beginning of this year to re-visit a poem I wrote on the eve of the turn of the century when I reflected on what had gone before and what was to come and the meaning of life. The Millenium was seen in by a wonderful family gathering at ‘Spier’ Wine Farm in the Western Cape, South Africa, when family from all over the world gathered together to celebrate this momentous event. Some family members have passed on since that day and some have been born and so the cycle of life continues.


The years have come, the years have gone
Love has blossomed, withered and died
Love re-born, the spirit new inside,
Youth and passion have burnt out
But the flame of faith burns on
Eternal hope, eternal love, part of the whole
Meaning of existence imprinted on my soul.

Life is a journey to be lived
Not for self, but to be a light
For travellers in the way at night
Youth and passion rule today
My spark of faith to light their flame
That through the years will guide their soul
To eternal love and hope made whole.

©Deryn van der Tang
31st December 1999
Revised 5th January 2017


This poem was written the year after I left school, I was obviously torn between two boyfriends at the time, but cannot remember who they were. They must have engendered sufficient passion for me to have worked it out in poetry! (Not particularly good poetry at that!)


Wild are the mountains
Wild is the sea
but my soul remains calm
as calm as the heaven of blue
But lo!
The thunder and lightning splits the sky
like my soul now in torment
Divided, between two loves.

How beautiful, how cruel
My tormented soul is torn in conflict.
Who will aid this shipwrecked soul
A hand to help ashore?
No help – but calm
collect the driftwood
Re-build this life,
For what?

To be shattered again by the waves of love.

With the mast set
we’ll sail ahead to a better land afar.
Be content with the love you have
or you will sail into an iceberg.

D E Smith 1963




I hope this poem sets the tone for my creative blog. This was my first serious attempt at writing poetry in Form I at Queen Elizabeth High School in Salisbury, Rhodesia, in 1958. It was a time when we were feeling very patriotic and were proud to be Rhodesians and believed it was God’s own country. My Anthology won first prize in Form II. It was a stage in my growing up filled with emotion when I felt everything deeply, when only poetry could satisfy its experession. My grandfather Howes Smith played a great role in encouraging me and helping me to write poetry. I illustrated it later in 1999.


Rhodesia the land of wonder
Where the wild Zambezi flows
The Falls tumble down asunder
and the peaceful hippo blows

The game are wild and roaming
And the stately kudu bull
Comes out from his sleep in the gloaming
To drink at the water pool

The gloomy Zimbabwe ruins
In older times showed of state
Of ancient people reigning for moons
In two thousand years of late

©Deryn Smith 1958


Sunset Serenade

” This poem was written after visiting the Victoria Falls as a teenager of fourteen years old.  The glorious sunset inspired me. My hormones were in full swing so needed an outlet for my feelings.”

(On the Banks of the Zambesi)

The leaves rustled as a gentle breeze blew,
A lone girl stood on the bank of the river,
she stood silent, a tear on her cheek like dew.
If you looked close you could see her lips quiver
As she thought of the one she had lost.
The air it was still and calm, a deathly hush:
The evening sky was red with gold embossed,
Reflected in the river, it looked so lush.
The silent girl thinking of her one so dear
Stood silhouetted against the evening sky.
It was getting dark but she had no fear
She thought ‘Why did my true love have to die?’
She turned to go to her lonely old home
But paused as if to say something to her love
and saw the lilies all covered in foam.
Her heart was contented like a turtle dove
Then she sighed as if she knew she was blest,
And with gladdened heart returned with a sad smile.
No longer alone, that night she went to rest
Now they both walk along the ‘Heavenly Mile.’

Deryn Smith 1960


Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑