A LIGHT IN THE FOREST

Traveling together were a friend and I, on a getaway,

Down the long highway we went, weren’t sure where we were going.

We started out driving, searching for that unusual place of discovery,

A forest that would be our destination, we’re on our way into the day.

We travel along talking and listening to our favorite music, getting close,

Further ahead of us in the distance they appear to our eyes, trees so high.

We’ll be going up a ways, where everything is so green and darkness within the trees,

We make our camp for the night, ready in the morning for our walk below the hidden sky.

Tonight a campfire, some food, laughing with a friend, and sleeping under a star or two,

Morning light shines down upon the land, we pack our things and head into the forest.

Dark, very dark as we make our way deeper among the ancient trees, where are we,

There’s something up ahead, can you see, a light in the forest, we’ll be okay.

        Keith Garrett

    A MOMENT IN THE SUN

Has it always been mine since the beginning of my time?

I was born to run, I was born to chase the wind, so I run.

I’ve walked along the shore, my feet wet in the sand,

Holding hands, by myself I stand alone, a man.

There’s been at times much fun, I am not done,

Friends and loved ones vanished as the hourglass runs.

When will it come, I ask! This moment, my moment in the sun,

It was yesterday, appeared again today, did I not see,

Tomorrow will i wonder when it is to be as it lives all around me.

I had dreams of a girl once upon a time, she came to visit me,

She came to say hi, for just a moment in time, a moment gone by.

I’ve had a moment in the sun, a moment to run, to chase the wind,

I’ve had a love who went away with the passing day; she flies.

My journey takes me to a place, but who follows behind,

On another day will catch me, slow down to that which may be.

                                     Keith Garrett

   " TIME STANDS NOT STILL"

A clock may stop in the middle of a day,
Time keeps on ticking one’s life away.

Measured by years, the number you are,
How old will you get, will your existence go far.

Months are a piece of time in your life,
As each passes by, shorter becomes your flight.

Weeks are measured seven days at a time,
Fifty-two as twelve months go by.

A day has twenty-four hours for you,
The sun comes up and goes down too.

Hour by hour our days will pass,
No slowing them down so our lives will not go fast.

What is a minute but sixty ticks at a time,
Second by second older we find.

Keith Garrett

          IT'S ALMOST THANKSGIVING

This November has quite a bit of anger and stress,

There is mistrust, and the country is becoming more divided.

Crime and rioting are an everyday occurrence in our nation and world,

It’s almost Thanksgiving in a land of hostility and resentment.

As the holiday gets closer and the year’s end closes in, we think,

We all lose or gain something; struggles may be few or too much,

At times in our own world, fighting for our own daily survival.

You are fortunate if on Thanksgiving there is a roof over your head,

A bed you just came from, a warm fire, and some love.

To wake in good health, at times taken for granted, is precious,

It’s almost Thanksgiving, a little less anger, a helping hand or smile.

                      Keith Garrett

   A DRIFTING MAN

On a road of travel without any end,

Rests his weary body wherever he can.

Sleeps in the night hidden from sight,

Days of length, the next stop is any place.

From town to town he wanders with hope,

Worry fills his head about that next meal.

Find a job and stay in one place a short while,

Friends and smiles disappear with the miles.

A drifting man sees much of the land,

Meets many faces, lonely where he stands.

A price he pays to live in such a way,

There’s a gift in seeing the world,

What’s taken away is the peace of settling in one place.

He chooses a path; he’s a wandering man,

Today he’s here, gone again.

           Keith Garrett

             A FALL DAY 

Morning is filled with a fog coming off the lake,

A beautiful sight, chilly is the breeze, very early.

Quiet is the way, a dream that I will have this day,

Trees stand watching all around, their leaves upon the ground.

A beautiful scene the lake shows when soon the fog does clear,

Everyone is still asleep on this Thanksgiving day, a fire burning.

Chopped wood is what is needed to keep a home warm on this holiday,

On this Fall day we will share our lives in peace and love.

I can hear the voices of children; awake now is the family,

Relatives will arrive soon; wife is inside preparing a turkey.

A Fall day in November, will there ever be one like it again?

                    Keith Garrett

A DAY WITHOUT SYMPATHY

I awoke in the morning; I fell out of bed,

A bad headache but no aspirin for my head.

I went for a cup of coffee but only an empty jar,

Maybe some toast but the butter was at the store.

I went to get the paper in a puddle of mud,

The dog chewed up my shoes. What am I to do?

Got dressed and headed for the car, off to work I’ll go,

The car wasn’t there, stolen wouldn’t you know.

Went to call the police, locked myself out of the house,

Headed for the bus stop, watched the bus drive on by.

I flagged down a cab, please get me to work,

No wallet in my pocket, I gave him my watch.

I walked through the door, fearing I was so late,

This is your day off, you don’t work today.

No way home so I put out my thumb,

No one would stop, I walked all the way.

I had no key, Oh! what a day,

I broke the window, the door was open all the way.

My T.V. was gone, the phone did not work,

Nothing to eat, time for some sleep.

I went to my room, the bed was gone,

A day without sympathy, on the floor I did lie.

 Keith Garrett

     I SAW YOU AGAIN

I moved away to a new place where life would change,

Different streets with different names, a distance away.

I was walking along on a cool, autumn day, a shadow displayed,

Dark as most shadows are, except this one carries a memory.

There was not a body there, but a chill ran up my back so fast,

The feeling was uneasy as I went to bed that night, thoughts of fright.

I felt not alone in my new home, a dream once before was again here,

I stepped into the dark as I awoke in the night; the wind echoed loud.

Through the living room I moved toward the window, a remembered feeling,

The fear was felt; I was scared, but I knew what was waiting outside in the night.

I peeked out the window as once I did before, the wind howling through the trees,

Just as I dreamed more than once before, a being dressed in a robe and mask of black,

He knows that I am inside watching; he stands there in the windy darkness.

I saw you again just as you were seen in my sleep; you visit me without a reason to be,

Darkness without a face, you wander in silence within dreams, mostly in many a dark place.

                                      Keith Garrett

            WHEN THE HILLS ARE ALIVE

There’s a town that sits down below, at peace most of the time,

Family and friends, life goes on as not a soul speaks of a curse.

It seems forgotten, blocked from their minds until Fall arrives,

The days grow shorter, and the hills above darken earlier with shadows.

Many leafless trees, the wind howls through that which is alive,

When a certain October night appears, make sure you’re not outside.

Not sure why this town doesn’t die, each year a nightmare comes to life,

When the hills are alive on an October night, a town disappears a little from fright.

What’s out there that roams from high in the night, the horror is felt at many bed sides

Doors are locked, windows bolted down, be there at home when the light says good night,

When the hills are alive for just one night, pray hard and be quiet until morning’s light.

                             Keith Garrett

You are somewhere, everywhere, and here; they do not know,

You can not be seen, not by me, but I know that you are there.

This came upon me one day in a fast way, an accident for me,

A curse or gift we will see; I am afraid of that which cannot be seen.

I can hear you, thought I was losing my mind, voices in my head,

You are in between here and there; you speak to me as I do not see.

You are all around; I hear you as your sound echoes throughout,

I can hear you; you do see me. It is you who cannot be seen.

Keith Garrett