On the porch she sits, telling us stories from her life,

Times and places of difference, tales from long ago.

She likes to knit watching life go on around her every day,

Playing games with the children, watching a show, baking.

She does not walk the same, as once when she was a younger lady,

Eyes that do not see the same wear glasses that make scenes clear.

Hair of a color so different from the dark, flowing that once was,

Aches and pains from a lifetime of once energy and much play.

Grandmother, you were once a young girl just like me, a picture i see,

You have had such a life from many stories sitting on the porch, told to me.

You are grandmother, one day I shall be like you, telling stories of my own life,

Different times, I will age and have had a life, I will be one day grandmother.

Keith Garrett





Walk a little while with me under heaven as god watches,

See the beauty of the world as he intended, walk with me.

Hand in hand, travel this path of life for just a while and smile,

The sun shines upon us, the clouds have faces of their own.

In heaven, all is special and wonderful, walk further with me,

Feel the wind as it follows behind and passes us by, I feel.

Where is it that we belong, where do we walk as we talk,?

Thoughts of prayer keep us company, hold my hand and walk.

The grace of love is given to few, everlasting love that is true,

Love and companionship may be shared between two without

A commitment of being joined together always, without pain.

I am this lonely soul who walks with an angel hand in hand,

Smile to smile as with you we’ll love and stroll along, walk awhile.

Keith Garrett



She was born In nineteen twenty eight, a star she would soon be,

This golden haired little girl with a pout that could melt anyone’s heart.

She would sing and dance shaking her golden curls all about,

A beautiful little child, a star growing up back In the thirties.

There has never been a child star like her and never will be again,

Her smile would light up any room, she lived In a time of depression.

World war two was closing In but her movies could take away the struggles

Of everyone’s pain from those days, you could go away If only for a moment.

What a life for a girl named Shirley, so young when the whole world knew her,

In a time of great entertainers, a changing world, Shirley Temple was around.

She grew up to be a woman but the little girl would go on to live forever,

Her movies will never go away so she will live In our hearts always.

Here’s to you golden haired little girl, In heaven, you’ll be again that little girl.

Keith Garrett




He seemed to have dropped from the sky,

No memory or thought of an earlier time.

A gift he had, a gift from God,

The gentle giant with a loving heart.

Guilty of nothing but judged just the same,

A healing hand, a gift with a burden.

His name was John, a miracle of God,

A sentence of death although a good man.

Soon he would die, a chance to be set free,

The gift that he had made him tired and weak.

But how could one of Gods miracles be of any evil sort,

His name was John, never did he do anything wrong,

One of Gods miracles has died and gone.

Keith Garrett



Clouds form, they turn dark with storm,

Drops fall from the sky, cold and warm,

More and more as they touch treetops.

Drip by drip they trickle down to the ground,

Into the rivers, flowing into the oceans as one.

Drops of rain cover lakes, slowly filling with time,

From the mountains, the water makes its way down,

Soaking the hills to create life, within the flowers and grass.

Let the rain fall, God is in the rain, in the drops that are upon you,

God is in the rain as it comes down, God soaks this world with life.

Keith Garrett




He trains on his own, a hard and painful, lonely, road,

Up with the sun, a day that’s never done.

A boxing man, at times, beaten and battered,

Win or lose, he’ll give it all that he can.

Blood is his sacrifice, swollen knuckles, and hands,

Stands and faces the enemy, twelve rounds if he can.

Knocked to the canvas, back on his feet is this man,

Eyes that are half closed, strength of a warrior.

This chosen life, a courageous man with gloves on his hands,

A champion, a winner no matter the outcome.

Keith Garrett



I believe in ghosts, spirits that are here among us,

Do they wander all around us as we live and sleep.?

Sit at the edge of our beds talking to us while we dream,

Are they angry or sad, happy with smiles that last forever.?

Are their mean and evil ones that cause us pain while we sleep,

Maybe the unexplained events in our land are because of them.?

I think we have ghosts among us from many different centuries,

Possibly they visit a world they can never again live in, missing.

Do they trap themselves in a world where they no longer belong,

Afraid to move on to a new world, scared as they are not quite sure.?

Ghosts are where? forever they wander between what we can not see.

Keith Garrett