THE LITTLE MAN

On a blustery, cold evening in early Fall as darkness comes soon

And we were having dinner, I thought I heard some laughter.

Everyone’s backs were to the window except for mine,

I thought I saw something, an image of a man, I’m not sure.

There was a cold shiver up and down my spine, but why,

My family was settling in for the night, for me, not this night.

I don’t know why I didn’t say anything or why I felt this way,

Out the window, I decided to peek, and there he was standing in the yard.

The little man, a long beard, dressed in a black robe with a cane in his hand,

He knows I’m there, he smiles and disappears, he wants something.

No longer do I feel the fear, as soon he will surely reappear,

The little man comes again, standing in the darkness, in the wind.

He motions to me to come with him; I can’t resist as he takes my hand,

The little man takes me away; he is not of this world, never am I seen again.

            Keith Garrett

        STORIES ARE TOLD

Traditions of storytelling from thousands of years,

Around campfires and in homes in times of old.

Thought up from imagination or a small tale that grows,

Fables told by a Grandfather to a child in countries of old.

A bedtime adventure from a book to send you off to dream,

Around the world many have listened, stories across the sea.

Stories are told that touch one’s soul,” listen, child,” they
Never grow too old,

Generation to Generation, within cultures of different beliefs,
A tale that speaks.
Keith Garrett

          FALL

Summer will go away, with it the miserable heated days,

The sun will find its way, settling down earlier than yesterday.

A cooler breeze will drift down from the mountains, Fall,

Colors of change are among those that show another season,

Watch as leaves float to the ground, color is all around.

Fog will roll in from oceans across many coastal sands,

Crisp mornings are a favorite, most beautiful sight,

Fall and all that visits with it, feel it from within.

                               Keith Garrett

       NO ONE'S REALLY GONE

Before we were us, we did not suffer; what did we breathe?

A short life is all there is; does a lifetime seem so long? We are gone.

Is the earth all there is? Beyond, we do not know if life exists,

Around us is all that exists; beyond the night sky, could there be life?

While we are here, we experience many sides to a life not really understood,

Emotions of all kinds, they travel with us daily as the sun goes down.

We start a baby just born; there comes a day when in ways a baby again,

Time takes from us our youthful ways; it can steal our thoughts, we decay,

No one’s really gone; energy and spirit travel on to a new beginning, another song.

                               Keith Garrett

    MANY THOUGHTS

Have you ever been to Matamoros Banks, sad eyes?

Once I got in my pink Cadillac and drove there to rendezvous
With a woman named Leah.

When I got there she was playing the guitar and singing something
Called Terry’s song,
She was born in the U.S.A. and said I wanna be with you.

I told her, “My love will not let you down”

She said, “Let’s be friends skin to skin.” “That’s all I’m thinking about”

I told her, ” I’ve met too many women with hearts of stone”

Later we went to a place called the Lions Den where the bands are.

We listened to a song called the Seaside Bar Song,

When we left there, we were robbed, believe it or not; we were held up
without a gun.
The big payback was we didn’t have any cash, and there was a man who was
Quite the hitter,

He killed one of the men and said for his help there is a code of silence.

The promise was kept, and we went on our way to a motel called Loose Ends,

There were 57 channels and nothin’ on so we rented a movie called Part Man,
Part monkey.
Later that night I couldn’t sleep, and I thought about growin’ up, telling
An old friend, Janey, “don’t you lose heart”

I thought about a girl who said, “You can look, but you can’t touch”

A place my friends and I went to called Trouble River,

I remember partying with my brothers under the bridge and my father dying
From the fever.
Keith Garrett

               SPURS

On boots they jingle, western wear for the cowboy,

Listen for them as they approach; they have a sound.

Spurs that spin, dress up a western look,

Worn by the cowboy, cool as he moves.

On a ranch, somewhere in a western town,

A boot with spurs, clicking as the sun goes down.

Take off your boots and rest for the night,

Jingling, clicking spurs again at morning’s light.

                          Keith Garrett

              SHADOW RIDERS

Men crumble; their sins they can not hide, they run,

From the expressions on their faces, aging lines of haunt.

One of them runs, the other chases; they both run together,

One tries to hide his guilt and pain; the other chases after forgetting.

Shadow riders, at different times they are the rider, the other prey,

They are from a time of civil unrest; they kill and then die in a place for them.

It takes its toll, the hunt, and the run, tears from men dry up in the sun,

Nothing more to be said, two dying men soon would be dead, blood on their hands,

One’s knife in the desert sand, a gun left on a deserted land,

Walk in a different direction, shadow riders are never seen again.

                                          Keith Garrett

               PHOTO ALBUM,

Open it up, only empty pages are before you,

One by one, we add a picture, a scene from time,

Frozen within pages of a book, hidden with each turn.

It can not hold all that we see, not enough room for our history,

A photo album to pass along, share memories of life and family.

Not a movie, piece by piece, a glimpse of an adventure of life,

Turn the pages and find that with the passing time a book fills.

We become frozen in time, memories that we leave behind,

Expressions shared in pictures, we close the book on a simple time.

                                      Keith Garrett

      LORD OF KINGS

Rulers of many lands, they were different but greedy the same,

Treasures valued beyond the real purpose of a living man.

Since the birth of man and the rising sun, war is never done,

Blood spilled with time, lies and guilt, death seems but a crime.

Some Kings sit upon thrones of deceit and evil deeds,

I wonder if there ever was one who thought more about the common good?

The Lord of Kings is a mysterious one, creator of all things great and kind,

Master of Earthly scenes, creator of the universe, that which men build and destroy.

                        Keith Garrett

       GOD IS IN THE RAIN

Clouds form; they turn dark with storm,

Drops fall from the sky, cold and warm.

More and more as they touch treetops,

Drip by drip they trickle down to the ground.

Into the rivers, flowing into the oceans as one,

Drops of rain cover lakes, slowly filling with time.

From the mountains the water makes its way down,

Soaking the hills to create life, within the flowers and grass.

Let the rain fall; God is in the rain, in the drops that are upon you,

God is in the rain as it comes down; God soaks this world with life.

                      Keith Garrett