I HOPE YOU HAD THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE

You were once a child, do you remember being a girl?

Having your tea party, a dollhouse with all you pretend.

A swing set, do you remember riding the wind? so young back then,

Think back to your Kindergarten school, lost friends and you.

You saw things a son not born would ever see, you had dreams,

There were school dances and your favorite movie stars,

Listening to songs of great singers, drive-in movies, driving in cars.

You were born with the Wizard of Oz, wandered through the fifties as a teen,

Wars were many, the sixties and a family, all the places you have seen.

A touch older but will forever live in you, a little girl from long ago scenes,

I hope you had the time of your life,

Remember who you are, a girl who dreamed, Barbara Jean.

Love you, Mom

FLIGHT

There up high i stare to the wide open sky,

Watch as i do you circle round, and round.

Free to fly, soar with the wind, i see you fly,

What is it that you see as you drift through the air.?

Spread those wings and sail, sail to anywhere,

Beneath the stars, under heaven above, fly.

What the Lord has given to you is the gift of flight,

Fly away, fly away, get lost into the night.

Created were you by he without a face,

Spirit in the sky will take you on a special flight.

Make your journey through the clouds moving by,

into the sun that shines from so far away.

Finish your flight, goodbye, I say farewell,

Fly, fly far away.

Love you, mom

Keith Garrett

MYSTERY OF HER SONG

Many years before, she sang a song, he watched himself Gavotte,

Who was this song about, Carly sang loud?

The possibility that there were three so vain,

There was one in her thought’s, knows of him today.

As she lives, they still live and have not yet gone away,

Much older today but the song still plays.

A clue as Mick danced the Gavotte, a rolling stone,

Jack and Warren, they were vain hung out at a place of the same.

Mystery of her song, she does not speak out loud,

Who was so vain, was she so angry, Carly remembers you’re so vain.

Keith Garrett

ENTER HIS KINGDOM

Some have said that everyone Is born with a sentence of death,

Life after, to live in eternity Is said to be of the greatest peace.

There is a purpose for our lives here on this Earth,

Lessons to understand, too feel and experience all emotions.

The greatest joy and gift that one may receive can only be a dream

As we live and breath here in this world,

The thought of death, too die appears as something so horrible.

Life is a precious mystery that we all are given by God,

We are blessed with the chance and knowing that one day

When our time is here done that we will enter his kingdom.

Sin will be no more, pain, suffering, and hatred will die,

Everlasting love and beauty will be ours,

Enter his kingdom and live forever.

Keith Garrett

A TOUCH OF CANCER

We are alive, on the same path, a day all will die,

One day to oblivion we will be, before that let’s see.

A journey to an eternal place but we live from day to day,

Feeling good, happy as we awake to the morning light.

We are born, it’s a wonderful gift as we slowly sicken from that day,

Don’t get me wrong fore life holds many beautiful scenes I agree.

None of us are really sick just a touch of cancer that steals our day,

A touch of Cancer, It seeks us out in different ways, in the world always.

Keith Garrett

LEPRECHAUN

A small, mischievous Elf, dressed in green attire,

Belts of black, boots perhaps of the same color.

From Irish Folklore, It has been said they have been

Seen roaming the Irish countryside, these wee folk.

Members of a clan, they invaded Ireland, banished to live underground,

Standing only two to three feet tall, these devious characters,

Quick witted, intelligent, they evade capture from humans.

They live in underground caves with entrances or a hollow trunk of a fairy tree,

It is said that wishes of three have been granted to some that leave them be.

They are known for their love of Irish music and dance, Instruments played,

Tin Whistle, the fiddle, Bodhran, and the Irish harp, a look with beards and pipes.

Shoemakers they are, believed because of all the dance they do,

To catch one of the wee folk is nearly impossible as they are smart with magical powers,

Vanish into thin air they can, a pot of gold is a most possible dream.

You’ll hear an Irish Leprechaun before you’ll ever see one,

They have a fondness for drinking Irish Poitin, catch one if you can.

Happy ST. Patrick’s Day,

Keith Garrett

ARMS OF GOD

Outstretched, they reach far and wide, around the world,

Fierce and strong, they can crush or destroy what’s needed,

Careful and loving as they will comfort when the going is tough.

A being so full of mystery, with power and wisdom so unknown,

Creator of all that we know and more, arms of God will carry us home.

Wherever you may be, within all that we see, they exist to help us up,

Touching a universe that seems to have not an ending of discovery,

The arms of God are not to be seen as they are not a fantasy or a dream.

Keith Garrett