Away from everyday, away from what is always seen,

To a place of peace by the water, where the grass is green.

Birds of song dance in the sky, here in solitude, this is I,

A giant oak tree that’s as old as many night skies, by the creek.

Myself searching for a dream come true, seeking in my reflection,

In the still water a face of a man staring at me, what does he see.?

By the creek is where i dream, lost wishes sleep at the bottom,

This always working mind try’s desperately to awaken them.

I’m a different sort of man now, lessons of mistakes learned,

Taught by what and the who of that which is gone away.

Lessons learned from the no more, by the creek, by the creek.

Keith Garrett