SOUNDS OF THE EAGLES'

Through the years they soar like birds’

With their voices are sounds of musical words.

They cry out to those who would hear as they play,

The thoughts in their minds with a guitar they will say.

Smiles of emotion on their faces each one,

All come together, apart they are none.

They all tell a story of their lives as they sing,

Memories of the past, to the present now they bring.

Don, Glen, Joe, and Timothy,

One, Two, Three, Four sounds of the Eagles,

Are what they were born to be.

         Keith Garrett

I was asleep just a few minutes ago; the night was calm,

Not anymore,

The shutters were banging against the walls; darkness was alive, Fall.

The wind picked up at a rapid pace, tree branches scraping against the house,

Leaves blowing across the yard, trash cans banging in the night, the moonlight.

My window was not open, as this night was not cold; the curtains blowing around,

I tried closing my eyes, but an unusual sound startled me; my body jumped.

I thought I heard a deep laughter echo past my window as it passed in the distance,

Something that made my skin crawl, as if it knew I was here; I felt the fear in me.

Its presence was real; this was no dream, as the night was to be quite horrifying,

The wind was blowing in all directions, and as it passed this way again, I was very afraid.

I about hit the floor when I heard words, the most terrifying sounds to the ear,

I can’t even come to speak of what was said,

Never will I be the same, as there is something in the wind.

Keith Garrett

  SOMETHING IN BETWEEN

When they are there, so close to here, watching,

Reaching out to touch you as you sit in your little home.

Staring in your eyes as there is no clue of their presence,

There’s a good chance they rest at the edge of your bed while you sleep.

It Is that they roam your home while you live from day to day, maybe play,

These are not friendly entities as the living would hope, horribly more.

Something in between, evil and mean will sooner or later make you scream,

Some have disappeared in the night because of that which can not be seen with eyes,

Fright on a windy October night where those will be missed after echoing cries.

Something in between, their appearance no human would want to see,

Close enough to touch, from in between they wander where you scream.

                     Keith Garrett

           7 MINUTES

We all have 7 minutes before something we must do,

The same time before work is done and time to go home.

7 minutes waiting or 7 minutes up, what be the circumstances,

7 minutes in the shower, 7 minutes on the phone,

7 minutes before dinner, another 7 minutes all alone.

Time is of the essence, time never stands very still,

7 minutes late may save your life, right on time, goodbye.

In only 7 minutes, from good to bad, your world has changed,

Snooze for an extra 7 minutes; it may do you a world of good,

7 minutes is a long time to suffer, 7 minutes to love and dream.

                                   Keith Garrett

        HALLOWEEN

That Eerie night when the moon is full and bright,

When darkness falls upon the land, they come out.

Magic and wicked spells are a fantasy or not,

When at the stroke of midnight a witch is seen

Flying on her broomstick across the moon.

A night when the wind howls and the trees seem to come to life,

Casting their shadows from the bewitching moonlight.

Monsters of evil again on this Halloween night.

Black cats lurk in the dark, listen for their sound,

Goblins and mummies, curses from the ground.

Until the stroke of twelve, all is not well,

Howling at the moon, a werewolf somewhere dwells,

Halloween, is it only Halloween?

              Keith Garrett

         I AM NOT A RICH MAN

            BUT RICH I AM

I do not own a home or a treasure chest of gold,

Stocks and bonds are few, diamonds are a little too.

I am not a rich man as calculated by statistics and daily man,

A special car or a vacation home does not show of my value,

I am not a rich man, estimated by paper money or material things.

But rich I am, if life is valued only, just a regular day,

These things are free, but of gold bars to me, listen to what
Makes a rich man.

If love is in your day, then rich you are most specially,

I can walk and see with my every day, I breathe freely, I’m okay.

A roof over my head, clothes on my back, never to bed am I hungry,

So much can cost money, beauty, staying healthy, a song you sing is free,

But rich I am, with that which is mine and my thoughts every way.

                                        Keith Garrett

        A SPELL ON THE 31ST

A lying man’s tongue just freshly hung,

The eyes of a murderer taken for fun.

Hands from a thief cut from his arms,

A foot of the dead, one found in the woods.

Head of a bat, hair from the wolf,\par

An evil soul dug up from its hole.

A thought from the wicked one who has not a conscience,

Into the pot the greed of anyone.

A piece of the cheating heart, those who hold,

One spoken word, a lie to the world.

All that is bad stirred into the pot,

A spell on the 31st will be cast after dark.

                      Keith Garrett

              WITHOUT A CONSCIENCE

He lurks in the darkness, within the shadows,

A gruesome figure of a man, quietly waiting.

He watches on an October night,

Stalking his prey till morning’s sunrise.

He kills with no warning, no fear or remorse,

Without a conscience, he’ll stop your heart.

On a windy, Fall night, leaves falling from the trees,

If the moon is full and bright, his shadow may be seen.

Without a conscience, he’ll take your life,

What kind of man walks in the darkness?

Seeking blood on a Halloween night?

Listen for the footsteps but stay in the light,

Don’t go out alone, not on this, his special night.

                    Keith Garrett

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          THE WARRIOR

Dressed for battle, he stands ready to fight, the warrior,

Fear lives within him for this emotion brings wisdom.

Strong, as he fights for that which he believes,

A lonely way of life but a man makes a choice, a stand.

A family, not in this soul’s plans, born to walk alone,

This chosen way, which may haunt, is just a house of cards.

It’s not said that he is a bad man; quietly, the sun rises for him,

This path chosen, a quiet one if those to let it be not a fight.

Always ready for battle, though silently lives in the shadows,

This wanting-to-be-left-in-peace man is a warrior on his own.

                Keith Garrett

      WHERE DID ALL THE PEOPLE GO?

Arrived in town on a cool, crisp Autumn day,

A man dressed as a man should, yet not a man.

Why was he here? No one would at this moment know as he smiled,

A face like all others, underneath something more.

If he chose your door, then his appearance would show much more,

As a man dressed so well, this demon from some sort of hell.

This time of year he feeds on the mortal being,

He might take you away to his land of fear.

Where did all the people go, now you know,

One by one they disappeared, one way or another on a cool,

Crisp Autumn day, they felt the fear.

               Keith Garrett