BATTLE AMONG MEN

 Like a psychological and physical 
 Chess game, they will play,

 Mind games, to get inside an opponent's 
 Mind is a goal.

 Two teams have survived a war of many, 
 With strength and power,

 They have traveled to many distant lands, 
 To fight for the right

 To meet here, in a neutral zone, and 
 Settle a question, of who will be the 
 Champion.
 The crown sits in the endzone, where 
 They'll have to suffer much pain,

 And sweat to take possession, and be 
 Crowned kings of a victory hard fought.

 This is a battle among men as they march 
 Yard by painful yard, down the field,

 They'll taunt and push their way closer 
 To a treasured goal line.

 Their captains will loudly give signals  
 As these warriors make strategic moves,

 Their energy and will, no mistakes, is 
 What will get them through this fight.

 Names of their army, the New England 
 Patriots, will be ready and able to match 
 the enemy,
 The Seattle Seahawks will travel the distance 
 and meet them on a distant battlefield,
 This will be a battle among men, and may the 
 Better team on this remembered Sunday, win.
                          Keith Garrett                                

They come to this place to taunt

Each other,

On a battlefield against a friend

Or Brother.

They stand, and they face each other

To start,

Twenty-two men with no fear in their

Hearts.

From start to finish, this is a race,

All of them are wearing the same

Game Face.

Like a game of chess, their strategy

Is planned,

To conquer the enemy who invades

Their land.

They charge down the field, like

Soldiers, they run,

Let nothing stop them from getting

The job done.

They make their way through the

Mud and rain,

to the other side, they fight through

The pain.

Now the sound of people as they yell,

Down on the field must be some kind

Of hell.

In the end, when it’s all done,

These warriors of the field,

So much they have won.

Keith Garrett

                                                                                                   SUPER BATTLEFIELD
 There's a war on, it's been planned,


 Strategies have been worked on, the 
 Enemy is close at hand.

 Two Generals who do know of each other,


 One's arm is his cannon, the other a fighter.


 They're gearing up as it's time to stand 
 And fight,

 Strap on their armor, weapons are of many.


 Through pain, or blood, or the dark, cold 
 Of night,
 

They do not surrender on this battlefield of 
Might.

 Armies of two, strong and fearless, they 
Match,

 Until one is lying on the field, battle 
 Rages on.

 This is a battlefield like no other,


 Strength and speed, mistakes must be few.


 A near-perfect game plan, a prayer, and some 
 Hope,

To the victor, a field taken, champions proud,

 They will stand tall.


                 Keith Garrett

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 spot is anyplace.

From town to town, he wanders with hope,

worry fills his head about that next meal.

Find a job and stay in one place for 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.

Keith Garrett

A fighter, a warrior, on the attack

But must defend,

He must be tough as he’s hammered

From end to end.

He waits for the call, as he moves, he’s

Then handed the ball,

Protected by an army as he runs through

Many holes.

From side to side, spinning and moving,

A fearless look upon his face as he marches

Forward.

Gaining yardage, step by step, hard hit is

This man,

A running back on a football field, ball

In hand.

Hold on to the ball, hold on tight in this

Fight,

they’ll try to take you down, not on

This night.

When they attack, hit them hard, right

Back,

your victory comes when you can

Cross the line.

Keith Garrett

  A MAN WITH AN AX

Wood needs to be chopped, it sits 
Waiting, many types and sizes,

Fall is in the air, chillier the air  
Turns, work must be done.

 A job it is to chop enough wood, to 
 Warm a home for the winter,
 
 Must be done, perhaps no fun, as it 
 It is an accomplishment to be proud.


Stack it in a pile, carry it piece by piece, 
Chopped and split wood for a fire,

A smell, can you take it in, smell the 
Aroma as it's cut, Stronger it grows.

A man with an ax gets this job done, he  
Sweats from morning till the setting sun,

Swinging an ax, working as the cold moves 
Closer,

The wood pile will rise higher.

A man with an ax is strong and determined,

He will succeed because he knows of its 
Need.                                                                     
 
When it's done a winter of warmth,
 
When the setting sun, he knows the job
Is done.

Keith Garrett
   


    

                    

     HILLS' OF FIRE
                                                                                                                Keith Garrett
 Look to the sky, watch as the smoke 
 Rises high above,

 Beauty disappears as the heat 
 Consumes What was green.

 Ignorance or wind, destroys god's 
 Masterpiece created,

 A fool is the man who can't see the 
 Hift put in front of him.

 See the hills of fire, watch as the 
 Animals run, see their fear,

 See all that can be seen through 
 eyes of pain, of sorrow.

 Hills of fire, burn no more, fire 
 Of death, Be rained down upon,

 Let life reappear, let the colors 
 So bright be a sight.

 Hills of fire and death, open your 
 Eyes, do you see,

 Hills of pain, hills of sorrow, 
 Open your eyes, do you see.

 Hills of beauty and laughter, open  
 your eyes, do you see,

 Hills of breath, hills of darkness, 
 open your eyes, do you see.

 Hills of danger and mistrust, open 
 Your eyes, do you see,

 The glow in the sky, a scar for all 
 To see.

 Hills of eternity and life, open 
 Your eyes, do you see,

 Hills of slumber, hills of strength, 
 open your eyes, do you see.

 Take these hills of fire away, never      
 Again, there's a price you pay,

   Keith Garrett
                                                                                      

                In A WESTERN TOWN
                            
                         
Walk these streets, sidewalks of wood,

Where men wear boots, hats, and guns.
      
Women wear dresses of an earlier time,

Some of morals, others work men for 
A dime.
 A sheriff, a deputy, to keep peace 
And Order,

 Jail is for those who can't follow 
 The law.

A school house, a church, places of 
Good,

 Children learn lessons, a house of god.


  A saloon is a place of drink and 
  Games,

 A piano heard, upstairs, women of 
 the night.

 In a western town there are many things,


A stable for horses, a gunfight to end 
One's day,

 Once upon a time in a western town.

   Keith Garrett                


         


             


           


   


       


         


                


               


          


      


     


            

                                                

clouded by the glory of those

All around,

These fearless giants will hold

Their ground.

They keep back the enemy from

Getting through,

For their standing general, this

Job they’ll do.

Face to face, they push and shove,

to come out on top, to rise above.

Exhausted and dirty, the pain shows

Through blood red,

from head to toe, hurt and cut,

Between them too much said.

Heroes in the middle, through

The snow and rain,

Nothing could be won without

Sacrifice and strain.

To these men who give their all,

Show them respect, honor them

With the game ball.

Keith Garrett

1980 Esperanza Aztecs