JUST A LONELY, OLD MAN
Maniac, crazy is the name given to him by a town,
This man with a long beard of gray, coat, and cane.
His house is said to be haunted, dark all around,
Weathered with cobwebs, many creeks, the only sound.
Just a lonely, old man whom at times may cry in the night,
Bitter from a loss, on his own hiding in his home.
Misunderstood, judged as he looks, his own heart and fears,
Just a lonely, old man with a lifetime within himself.
Keith Garrett
jUNGLE MUSIC
Take a fantastic journey into their world,
The birds so exotic watching high in the trees.
Sounds come from hidden places of darkness,
Snakes slither and hang from tree branches.
Tigers and panthers roam quietly for prey,
Monkey’s sing out as apes go their own way.
Insects fly far and wide, an Aardvark is noticed,
Baboons speak a different way, Cheetah’s on the prowl.
Chimps or Cougars, Elephants so loud,
Watch for a Gorilla, a Hyena is found.
A Jaguar is seen searching the grounds,
Climbing a tree, a Koala is around.
A Leopard has spots and talks his own way,
As for the Mongoose, what does he say?
Wild dogs and Wolverines, Zebras and birds,
Jungle music is played, they all know the tune.
Keith Garrett
FACE OF THUNDER
Appears with many a storm, it is not seen,
Growls, lets out an echoing roar from above.
Not a soft voice as it screeches out with anger,
Picture a face with mouth open wide, fiery eyes.
Traveling around, town to town, a booming sound,
Listen for the rumble, a face of thunder.
Keith Garrett
HE COULD WEAVE AND WHISTLE
Hiding in the shadows, within the darkness he watches,
Fear spreads among a mountain community of faith.
A mother does hide the child who is of difference,
A young man wanders in the dark of night, brings fright.
He does not speak, treated unkind like a monster in time,
He would whistle to speak, this man was not a freak.
What a talent he possessed, a weaver of baskets and more,
Listen and watch as this stranger to most could weave and whistle.
Keith Garrett
SHE SPOKE OF HER YESTERDAY
Today much older as she speaks of a life once hers,
Not many footsteps away from a town that had life.
She rests at this moment in a home for the elderly,
Although her mind and spirit are as young as her days in the sun.
She spoke of her yesterday, a family of love and plenty,
Her life in a town that was full of life and energy, now aged and still.
Memories flooded her thoughts as she would step back in time,
She spoke of her yesterday to a friend from today, bringing it to life,
We get old with our story to be told, we have something to say, something to give.
Keith Garrett
OH! WHAT A WORLD
This is where we stand in a hostile land,
Politics and policies, rules and regulations.
Lights that say stop, tell us when we can go,
Punch a clock, we’ve become only a number,
This land is your land don’t you know.
Stand in line, give them your code,
Show a picture I.D., or to jail, you might go.
Drive as you should, walk when you can,
Keep your thoughts to yourself in this American land.
Most whom do crime pay as they should,
Some with money walk away from their no good.
All around the world money’s the game,
Oh! what a world, we all have something to say.
Keith Garrett
MORE THAN A THEORY
I can see the world crumbling, weighed down by evil,
It’s overpowering the good and can be seen in many ways.
Will the world soon disappear or change its ways,
More than a theory are many things I think,
Assassinations and lies to the people are a reality.
John Wilkes Boothe did not act alone, I don’t think so,
James Earl Ray, was he really alone on that sad day,
Lee Harvey Oswald, who was the rest, what were their names?
Sirhan Bishara Sirhan, did he act alone, will we ever know,
More than a theory, so many lies, unanswered questions,
More than a theory, corruption, and guilty lies.
Keith Garrett
