THE RETURN

In a trip back in time, we do depart.
For a number of years, this has been on my heart.

We pass Nassau and the Bahamas along the way,
In our trip back to Guantanamo Bay.

We were there years ago in a younger life.
Going back now, seems to be less strife.

The memories that we are trying to recall,
Are of days when we all stood tall.

The Lord only knows if what we did back then,
Had any real effect on the world in which we now live in.

The feelings are mixed within me and there is nothing to do or say.
We are starting our desent into Guantanamo Bay.

As our plane touches down on this hot June day,
At last, we are now back in Gitmo Bay.

Time has not been so kind to the memories we once had.
Seeing the changes, at first made me sad.

Then, for long forgotten memories I start to recall,
Reminds me of when we did stand tall.

There in the hills, over grown and hidden well by time,
Are the bunkers we dug with our sweat and grime.

They are the reminders to what we once did back then,
So this base could be passed on to our Navy and Marines so now they can defend.

The Navy has really gone out of it's way,
To make our stay a good one, in Guantanamo Bay.

We learned a history lesson at Cuzco Well.
It is a reminder of what the ones before us, left us as well.

In the Chapel I found that God is helping us with our endeavor.
And that he will be with us forever and ever.

The trip back to Gtmo has been a joy to all.
And I am at ease, knowing that to Communism, this base will never fall.

As our plane lifts off and heads for the blue Caribbean sky,
My heart gives a sigh because the end of our trip in time is almost nigh.

I can now leave Guantanamo Bay knowing, that what I leave behind,
Is in capable hands and this eases my mind.

O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(c)1998

THE FENCE RUN

We all awake at the crack of dawn.
About all anyone can do is stretch and yawn.

We are about to make the 100th Anniversary Gtmo Bay, 5K frnce run.
The Marines take us out and watch over us, as they gurard us with a machine gun.

They let us out and we get a good look at the sun.
It is already hot but, we are having fun.

A marine blows a whistle and the race is on it's way.
Us older ones are left in a cloud of dust, here in Guantanamo Bay.

As we proceed, with communists on our left and freedom on our right,
That is what comes to mind in the bright sunlight.

As they watch us and we watch them,
I see a future for them that is very dim.

As I pass by, I stand tall and erect.
Showing them that I am proud and am of the elect.

Then before I know it, as I ponder all the why's,
The North/East gate with our flag flying, is there, right before my eyes.

Added to my memory now, on this day,
Is the 5K Fence Run I made at Guantanamo Bay.

O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(c)1998



THE CAGE

From what you have told, I will try to write.
Just to convey the scene causes me fright.

It is hard to imagine being kept in a cage.
I can already start to feel a building rage.

It was never meant that a man should indure.
For his mind, there can be no cure.

It is a terrible feeling to be left alone.
While your comrades are all gone.

When you are kneeled down and the bamboo is like steel,
There is no way others will ever know how you feel.

It is now over and you are no longer confined.
Only by the grace go God can you occupy your mind.

All that you now ask is for them to leave you be.
To live your life and just be free.

O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C) 1997

OLD VETERANS

We sit and ponder at current events
as we watch the war on the evening news.
We ask as we sit and remember about wars gone by,
"Have we really paid our dues"?

As young warriors flash arcoss
the television screen,
We wonder if, had we been there,
What then would the news bring?

Watching our youngsters brings us pride,
and a shot of youth into our old bones.
The fire and strength we once had,
is now all but gone.

We fly our flags as we march or ride
in the Veteran's Day Parade,
As we show the world
that we are not afraid.

We go to the cemeteries to honor
our dead on Memorial Day.
Just to show the world and our comrades that
we look after our own and have something to say.

Now we are too old
to fight our country's wars.
Yet we still support, even though our bodies
and mind are marked with scars.

We just have one thing to say to our young troops
that are in harm's way.
"We may be too old to be recalled but
we are with you in spirit on this day".


O.W. (Smokey) Cleveland
(C) 2003







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