Randall Scott Crossette Poetry

I once met a man who lived high in a tree
Down on the south coast of old Sicily
The people would stop and look up and they’d say
“Why do you live in the strange way?”

A tree is no place for a man they would say
The city’s much nicer please don’t go this way
It hurts us to see how you suffer they’d say
Please turn back you’ve gone the wrong way!

At first it was hard for the man in the tree
But soon he was comfortable as could be
Soon people admired and envied his style
And traveled to see him from miles

Tell us old man from high up in the tree
Your secret for somehow we just cannot see
We’ve hunted for silver and searched for the gold
But life’s grown no richer just cold

Riches like silver and gold have I none
But I have the moon and the stars and the sun
The sky is my blanket when daytime is done
The wind cools the scorch of the sun

Year after year you stay up in the tree
The wind and the rain you take so comfortable
Your life seems so simple and yet it’s so grand
Please help us we don’t understand

The old man looked down from his perch in the sky
He could see clearly ‘cause he was so high
Perspective he said is the name of the game
I’m special ‘cause I’m not the same

Surely there’s more to your secret than that
After all we could have been where you’re at
Your answer’s too simple for us to accept
You and your theories we reject

He turned with a smile laughed and said with a glee
Then you go live your life and I’ll live like me
And judge for yourself who the happier be
You or the old man in the tree

Poet: Randall Scott Crossette