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

                                                                                                  1969

I was a child in 1969, I had not 
A vlue of the world,
              
I knew of certain things, those of 
Which I lived through.

Riding my bike and a deadly Halloween
Night,that's right,

I remember all that I did as a kid, a 
Lifetime ago, and a family.

Vietnam was a reality, and I was 
Protected by my childish world,

 Butch Cassidy, and the Sundance kid, 
 Clint Eastwood was the man.

 Raindrops keep falling on my head, 
 Simon and Garfunkel were grand,                                    
                                      
  Scooby Doo, and all of the colorful  
  Cartoons that I knew, I think of you.

 Baseball with the miracle mets, Bill  
 Russell, and the champion Celtics,

 Joe Namath with his Guarantee, the Jets  
beat the Colts, Charles Manson and history.

 The Innocence of the Brady Bunch, walk on 
The moon.Led Zeppelin and a tune,

 1969 was the year when love and innocence 
 were mixed with my day.

           Keith Garrett

A long ride, not much in between,

Upon a quiet, deserted town, I came.

Not a soul in sight, a breeze echoes

Through this place,

Many different sounds as If people

Lived.

Only ghosts of a town that once had

Breath,

The back and forth clanging of an

Open jailhouse door.

A saloon sign creeks as it swings

In the wind,

I can almost feel those who once

Were here.

Only dust walks these streets,

This town that died,

I’ll stay here for the night,

I’ll be alright.

The only thing that will be

my company are a horse and

Tumbleweeds.

Keith Garrett

It comes to life between Fall and Spring,

In the woods, between snow- covered trees,

where leaves are blown by a chilly, cold

Breeze.

Above the hills, high in the snow-covered

Mountains,

Around a frozen pond, a snow-surrounded

Lake.

Have you seen winter? open your mind

And it’s there,

See with your imagination, there is a

Reality to the season.

Keith Garrett