Youth
The chair seldom rocks,
The music has been thrown away
All the toys have been broken
And the laughs have gone away.
Across an ancient playground
Where the children once did play
I no longer see or hear them laugh
The Children have all gone away.
The swings they no longer swing
The trees stand ancient and bare
And the birds they no longer sing
For the children are no longer there.
I close an attic window
As I take off a childish mask
And as I think, the tears do flow
As I wished again, youth had last.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Grandma
As she took her feeble steps
One placed after another,
Before she was my child's grandma
She was my precious mother.
Tired and old and back is bent
From the many years gone by
Her hair is gray and voice is low
As she walks slowly by my side.
In her eyes I still see the smile
As she took so little and gave so much
And the pain that she has received
While she always gave me love.
Clouds above us so pure and white
As I look at my mother at my side
I close my eyes and I see a new fallen snow
And then I think, she's purer than white.
poem by Randy McClave
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The Ending
As you look and you see him dead
With no more worries upon his head
His lips are silenced and eyes are closed,
The way death is and the way GOD chose.
His deeds on Earth they now are done
With battles he lost and victories he had won
And now in Heaven his judging will begin
On the scales of judgement it will be good against sin.
His journey is finished his walk is completed
And like all man he has been tempted and has been greeted
And now he lies down and we see him dead
Now he will be judged by the life he led.
RANDY L. MCCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
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Just A Dream
First we want and then we desire
The soul is consumed by need and fire
To build and create becomes the passion
And by doing our will, will become the action.
To build and construct will become the need
That desire in our mind and soul we must feed
We sweat and we will fight for it to survive
It will become our child as we gave it life.
We will watch it grow every step of the way
And we are there with it every night and day
But before our accomplishment there was a scheme
And before that; its beginning was just a dream.
Randy McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Autumn Leaves
Autumn leaves, in the trees
Falling to the ground
Colors of many, in the breeze
Of red and orange and brown.
Rainbow parks in the dark
Moonlight shimmers down
On the leaves, from the trees
Falling to the ground.
Lovers walk, hear them talk
To where Children played
See the beauty, and feel the warmth
From where nature stayed.
Barren trees, forgotten leaves
Another year gone by
All alone from a breeze
As the lovers softly cry.
Autumn leaves from the trees
Lying, on the ground
See the beauty, feel the warmth
And hear, autumns sound.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Muscle And Bone
GOD creates out of muscle and bone
Man creates out of steel and stone
Man builds his structures to grow and rise,
To sail the waves or touch the sky.
GOD gives life to the breeze
To move the clouds, or plant the seeds
To bring the rain upon the earth
And to quieten the pain when it comes to hurt.
Man creates with dexterity and complexity
To advance our race or to build our city,
Though man cannot create a leaf,
Though he can, destroy a seed.
Though man can create out of steel and stone
But only GOD can give life to muscle and bone.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Temptation
I was tempted by the devil today
But when I saw it I turned and walked away
Then when I was alone to GOD I did pray
I thanked him for making me strong that very day.
I could of walked forward and became very weak
Instead of turning around with my pride to keep
But vengeance and revenge I now do not seek
As what I do sow I know someday it I shall reap.
I kept all my thoughts and not one word did I say
As I am man with a soul and not a piece of clay
Neither to no one will I ever be a victim or prey
So now from temptation I just turn and walk away.
Randy L.McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Hate
I cannot count the tears
Nor can I count the hate
Though I can only count
The Men, that hate did take.
I cannot curse the world
Nor can I curse the few
Though I wish that I could only curse
The Men, that hate did knew.
I wish there was no pain
I wish there was no grave
But I know that will never be
As like rain, it comes everyday.
As we are given life
And we are given death
We are then given the choice
To make it the worst or the best.
I cannot count the bullets
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poem by Randy McClave
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Count The Tears
I cannot count the tears
Nor can I count the hate
Though I can only count
The Men, that hate did take.
I cannot curse the world
Nor can I curse the few
Though I wish that I could only curse
The Men, that hate did knew.
I wish there was no pain
I wish there was no grave
But I know that will never be
As like rain, it comes everyday.
As we are given life
And we are given death
We are then given the choice
To make it the worst or the best.
I cannot count the bullets
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poem by Randy McClave
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Be Not Proud
Oh Death be not proud,
Oh Grave be not shallow
For out reaching your darkened hand
And refusing a boy, to become a man.
Oh grave I feel your sting
And Death I hear you sing
From the lives that you do take
From the lives, to you we gave.
Oh grave, be not proud
For taking the little child
For refusing them yet to grow,
Unto the Adults, they'll never know.
Death be not proud
For arriving as a thief
To break the heart and shatter the soul
To only fill it, with your grief.
Death be not proud
Grave be not victorious
Pain be not loud
Sorrow, be not continuous.
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poem by Randy McClave
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