Randy McClave Poems

What is the meaning of life
Is it to be born and then to die
To that question once again I have thought
As once again for that answer I have sought.
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Where is ones home,
As He passes through the corridor's of life
Is it the bed that He was born onto
Or the place, fate chose for him to die.
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The Valley of red
Was once my Valley of green
Before, the killings took place,
No longer do birds fly overhead
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GOD made me strong
Man made me weak
Though those facts I grew and knew
Then a woman she made me weep.
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If you need a shoulder to lean on,
Here's mine,
Or tears, for you to cry
Or if you need a smile
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Honeysuckle, oh Honeysuckle
Watching as you grow
In the springtime and summer rain
Remembering children's games
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Come my lady
Give me your hand
As there is no rest
For a working man
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I am he,
Spoke the acorn to the tree
Said the flower to the seed
Replied the wind to the breeze
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Little man with your high heel boots on
As you are walking down the street,
I wander if people know who you really are
That daily you might meet or greet.
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What does it show
When a cold wind does blow
And a robin, sings you a song,
Are you in love
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