Should Of Been Me
An old couple walked down the street
And that is where we did meet,
Happy and joyful at each others side
Their love and companionship they could not hide,
They complimented each other with every step they took
As though they fallen from a romance book,
She held his hand and he held onto her arm
They protected each other from sadness and harm,
They talked to me about their life together
And how they were one, and they belonged to each other,
Then when I looked into their eyes I was happy what I saw
Faith and devotion, and the obeying of GOD'S law,
They had journeyed a great distance in life which is true
Through both good and bad times and hardships as two,
And now their journey together in life is almost finished
But their love for each other will never be diminished,
They walked very slowly as they walked away
So I said good bye to them, at least for that day,
Together they had loved, honored and obeyed
And never to the other, had they lied or betrayed,
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poem by Randy McClave
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Woman
In my eyes, as my eyes being but two
Their is nothing more beautiful and
exciting as a Woman true.
GOD has created His flowers and his trees,
But in my eyes He never really created
until He created Woman.
She with hair as long as the grass
blowing in the breeze.
She with eyes as bright and deep as
the sun awaiting for me.
Eyes that can search a mans soul for
his woe, and feels it with happiness.
She with a smile as a rainbow arriving
after the storm.
The smile and rainbow many men had
searched for, so to feel our soul with warmth.
She with a body and walk as an Angel,
That stops mans breadth in His lungs.
She with the gift of life, that gives an old
man the right again to feel young.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Sword Of Mine
The Sword that I carry
Though made not of iron or steel,
It is a mighty sword
That I proudly do so wield.
Though it wont break the skin
Or combat the weapons of a foe
But this is a mighty sword of mine
More precious than silver or gold.
This sword that I carry
I proudly display it in my hand,
For I know this sword of mine
Is greater, than any other mans.
It comforts me when I am tired
It will warm me when I am cold
It will lie down beside of me
To protect, and strengthen my soul.
The sword that I hold
Is tattered, and so very worn
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poem by Randy McClave
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A Military Brat
Though she knows both this and that
Except for where next she will be living at
Lived that life, as both daughter and now wife
As she is just, a Military brat.
She has no place to call her home
As around the world she has roamed
A new life to begin, as an old one did end
That life for her is all that is known.
New friends always for her to meet
As goodbye to the old ones she says with a weep
Always somewhere new, sometimes with no clue
But in her heart and soul memories she will keep.
She has gone to where our country has cried
And always with honor and also with her pride
With a smile on her face, which cant be erased
She was always at her fathers, and now husbands side.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Words
I write there, and then you write they’re
I write who, and then you write whom
I misspell my words, too me you then curse
Then you call me a stupid loon.
You call me names, from which I refrain
Then I am off to a different room.
I forget punctuation's, It gives you frustrations
I don't use a contraction, you give me verbal action
Then I misspell a word, you call me absurd
I give you my silence it’s my only reaction.
You call me a name, my innocence I proclaim
My humility is seems, is your only satisfaction.
I sit at my typewriter, I still am a fighter
As I close my eyes, words still materialize
Words are my friends, rhyming is my sin
Maybe someday that, you will realize.
I finish another poem, to the world I show them
I write another verse, it becomes my universe.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Run Away
Where are you going to run
When you have no place to run
Especially, when the wind gets cold and wet,
When you will had looked all around,
And once again your happiness cant be found
And as I wonder, have you thought that far yet.
What reason will you then give to leave
Of course one, that people might believe
To again leave a house, that once was your home
Will you put the blame on someone else
On the way you live your life and never yourself
So once again you can cry and complain and moan.
I now think about you and your past
And I end the thought with a grin and a laugh
As the reasons why that you threw them all away
You have blame your mother, and even your men
You had blamed your environment and even your friends
And always someone else's fault, why you had strayed.
So when the weather outside gets bad
And inside your soul you feel woe and are sad
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poem by Randy McClave
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Barren Land
As I walked upon a barren land
I saw pain and destruction from man's hand
What once was alive, no longer did thrive
And what once had stood no longer did stand.
Everywhere that I looked, I saw only death
With no pain, or remorse, or even regret.
GOD must had surely forgotten this place
As all that I felt and saw was hate and waste
No birds were flying, and angels were crying
Faith and hope must of left here in a haste.
I looked and I thought, I tried to care
But I didn't, so I cursed, I did not say a prayer
I began to hear voices as I walked
They started out as whispers then they talked
Persons were nowhere, voices were everywhere
I was being asked to 'not forget' as I was stalked.
Forget what? I then thought to myself
Were the voices from heaven, or were they from hell.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Aftermath
'The Tree Still Stands! '
Exclaimed the boy clasping his hands
To his Father who was walking the rear,
And to his Grandfather who was nowhere near.
For happy was He.
For standing there so straight and tall
Was the tree whose limbs He crawled
And the branches from which He played,
And the root where His head once laid.
And the many leaves.
Now the Father whom hearing His Son
Came to his side in a moment run
Then He stopped; for the tree He saw
Then the Father just stood in awe,
And uttered; 'my old friend'.
For standing there was His friend
From which before His youth was spent
By climbing and playing games,
And hiding under, from the cold and rain.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Sheeple
They follow each other like sheep
Maybe because of coloring, or with their own they keep
Not knowing where they are going so they just follow
One after another, up the road or in a hollow,
They all are weak and meek and so easily led
Sadly like sheep they know not of the dangers up ahead,
So they follow and follow as that is their norm
To follow in the mainstream and to their own they conform
They are led by their shepherd wherever that he might go
And they believe what he believes, but they know not what he does know.
They do their following without thought or thinking
They are acquiesce, without remorse or blinking
Thinking themselves not as individuals, but only as a group
All they seek is one to follow, someone to lead their troop
Following because of others or because they are adherent or devout
To the belief of someone else and even the lies from their mouth
They are told what to see and what they know and what to do
Sadly in their life and other matters they do not have a clue
These followers are unimaginative, submissive people
They are brothers to the sheep, known only as sheeple.
poem by Randy McClave
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Save A Wonder
A child's hand That I held
To show the world anew,
From the wonders that I've seen
To the beauties that I knew.
We walked a country path,
With wonders all around
And the child's grip grew much tighter,
With every sight and sound.
We saw the birds in the trees
We felt an April breeze,
As she came through the leaves
As though to greet, the child and me.
We then saw the April showers
Which cleansed the April flowers
And trees and grass we did see,
As they became our friends.
Then out came a rainbow
And out came a child's glow,
And then the questions, began to flow,
With the answers I'll never know.
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poem by Randy McClave
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