I wrote this poem about honeysuckles as they grew outside my parents house when I was growing up.
Honeysuckle, oh Honeysuckle
Watching as you grow
In the springtime and summer rain
Remembering children’s games
Remembering still from a breeze
Blowing a secret scent
From my youth, still are seen
Memories, from where I have been.
Oh Honeysuckle, precious dream
Walking down our road
From a boy, unto a man
Laughing at growing old
Precious dream, and precious life
Strolling dream in mind
Standing there, in the air
Reminded me of a different time.
Honeysuckle, oh Honeysuckle
Blooming once again
In the air, and I’ll be there
Longing for your scent,
For the boy, who was lost
Not ready to survive
Then you he caught, and you he taught
How to live, and how to smile.
RANDY L. MCCLAVE
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