THE LIGHTHOUSE

Tall as it rests high upon the cliff, overlooking the foggy bay,

Seems so quiet and lonely except for the waves crashing on the rocks.

The cold wind pounds against the rusty, old lighthouse under the fall sky,

What guards over this place for a century? What happened long ago?

As if dead, it slowly crumbles with time, maybe forgotten as the years go by,

Someone or something does not forget, as there exists anger, revenge.

What is it that haunts this lighthouse, cries in the night within the wind,

Whatever had happened here long ago, makes bad things come to any soul.

Stay away! There’s a force here that protects and will take the lives of those

who cross the path where once unspeakable acts of murder did happen.

Whoever it is that stands watch can not leave for certain reasons: unfinished
Work.

Possibly friends or family members who, for whatever reason, hang on to a life
Not here.

The lighthouse shines its light each night, but nobody knows just why; always fear,

Never will he or any others be at peace or leave until punishment is complete.

       Keith Garrett                   

    THE FRONT DOOR

What lies beyond the front door, within it,

Is it possible to be on both sides at once?

Perhaps in your thinking mind, dreaming thoughts,

A gateway to safety, a warm place to rest your weary head,

Home and family, all the comforts of peace within an opening door.

Beyond the front door is a big world of uncertain adventure,

There are those of fear which will bring a tearful heart down,

Places of memory and happiness, those not known or ever seen.

The front door opens and closes both ways, from different directions,

Never stuck in the middle, love and memories, pain and sorrow, both sides.

     Keith Garrett

  SOUNDS FROM THE FIREPLACE

I’m the only one who hears it. Am I losing my mind, or is it real,

Whatever this is appears most quiet when others are around.

How can this be? I’m afraid that it knows only of me,

Maybe these sounds are just for my ears alone, scared in my home.

I’m afraid to even sit there on my couch as I stare over there,

There’s something inside the fireplace, movement in the dark.

A part of me wants to go look, to see what it really is, but the fear,

I can hear something whispering, horrible things it or they say to me.

Laughter of an evil kind as it terrifies me and torments my mind,

Where they come from or why they’re even here is a nightmare.

The fear in me is known by them; what are they, what do they look like,

No one for me to tell, as they will think I’m a crazy person or sick.

Sounds from the fireplace are for only me, as from inside, silent screams,

It never stops, and slowly I am lost inside, fading away from reality.

        Keith Garrett

          ON A HORSE, SHE RIDES

On a horse she rides, this dark-haired girl,

Against the wind with a smile so bright.

No worries has she, this angel of the night,

Two separate souls, sharing this time.

Happiness shows on her face as this creature walks on,

Just a friend and a friend, riding along.

All dressed in black, on a horse she rides,

With all of her team at her side.

She gallops and trots across the land,

Just a girl and a horse, they go hand in hand.

     Keith Garrett                                                  

           ONE A.M.                                              

When they come, they come in force, from somewhere,

From everywhere they surround and take whatever is found.

These things that they are, never do you want to meet,

Their hearts are of black; you are nothing more to them than
Can be used.

There is no mercy shown when they lay their claws upon you,

Lock your doors, you already know that every year at one A.M.

On Halloween it is they who come from some place of mystery,

Horrible to you but to them a feast on this night after the midnight hour.

Hide as you do where they can not see, as they will not search for you,

For the foolish, the ones who don’t believe or don’t think it will
Happen again,

At one A.M., if you are within sight on this night, then you will
Have no more life.

         Keith Garrett

        CLOWNS IN THE DARK  

They were always supposed to be funny, at the circus doing tricks,

Making children laugh, adults who were once so young, believing.

They wear many different expressions to hide what’s really inside,

Appear do they friendly in the daylight, but in the coming days of

October, faces of clowns in the dark, only faces in the night.

On a cool, crisp October, days before Halloween, I went walking,

A breeze in the air as it is now Fall and the days are much shorter.

Laughter echoed through the swaying trees, from a distance a face known to me.

Not like before, as a child sees a clown, a quick, evil stare as he ran away,

Left behind was something that can’t be erased from my mind.

Night after night they became more and more, just one face the same,

Clowns in the dark who wear not the faces of fun but of their pain,

Revenge, Clowns from all time, wreak havoc in the night, no reason why.

                  Keith Garrett

                HALLOWEEN MAN

His hate for October began a lifetime ago; he was a boy,

A father loved so dear, did this night destroy a child’s life?

Learned of a father’s death, a fall from a cliff on a night,

He had to believe that another was responsible, too much pain.

Years passed by as this boy grew older, only Halloween haunts his night,

Something has changed; no longer in his right mind, he’s on his way.

Revenge for him makes no sense to the sane man; evil he’s become,

Kill he does, those who would wear masks on a cold October night.

His father did not come home on a long-ago autumn night; he also died,

He is the Halloween man; once a year, he terrorizes all he can.

                              Keith Garrett

          NIGHTMARE IN YORBA LINDA

Something is coming; what kind of evil lurks on Halloween?

He lived there way back in nineteen seventy two; he has returned.

Tormented by some or bullied by others whom he could not forget,

Once only a child with a family, he roamed Yorba Linda neighborhoods,

Grown up now with much vengeance in his heart, he has come home.

A list is held inside; there are names of those who still are here,

He hunts for you on this again October night; you have no idea.

Changed over the years as most do, deranged as a man loses his mind,

Be weary of who might ring your doorbell this Halloween night,

Again, so many years later, a man who was once a child, perhaps a friend,

Walks the streets of Yorba in the dark of night, seeking his revenge.

A nightmare comes to Yorba Linda, lock your doors! He’s on his way,

Watch for his eyes, when the night is done, he may go away.

                                 Keith Garrett

         I BECOME REAL

I am fantasy; I come to life in dreams in the night,

I am not real, a made-up story created from a pen.

A cartoon, monster, fable, or nursery rhyme,

I become real with the Imagination from a mind.

Superheroes and Frankenstein do not walk the streets,

Magic spells, wizards, and wooden boys are not really seen.

I become real when the world is a scary place to see,

All Impossible things are me when you believe,

I become real when what you pretend never ends.

            Keith Garrett

                I AM THE BOO MAN,

You have many questions and thoughts about me,

It is that you believe you have seen me, know of me,

I am in many places; late in the dark I see your faces.

When you think you see me standing alone in your home,

Like a nightmarish dream, you can believe what you see.

I may be at times under your bed when you lay your sleepy head,

Why am I here? Figure it out, what am I all about?

I am the boo man, laugh at you without much of a sound,

Peek at you through a window, just know I am always around.

Follow you I do from place to place, I see you from the street,

You haven’t seen me for a while, maybe tonight you’ll see my face.

From your closet, behind the couch, you never know where I really am,

Every time I show myself, then don’t forget that I am forever the boo man.

                                        Keith Garrett