CANDLES IN THE SKY


 They've rested high, forever in the darkened sky,



 Seen in the night, billions float beyond our seeing eyes.



 Light up the night they do, a wick lit by fire not 
 Needed to glow,


 Bright Is the way If not Clouded by what may come this 
 Way.


 Candles In the night, not made of wax so they forever 
 Burn in our sight,

 Quiet In the dark, By morning's light there Is not, 
 Until night another spark.


 Hot Is the wax that melts, the light In the sky has not 
 Yet died,


 Candles In the night shine still bright, what dims, what 
 Does die?

                       Keith Garrett

              BETWEEN DARKNESS AND LIGHT


 The sun shines bright, it then fades into the 
 Dark of night,

 Just as the heart and soul of a human crawls from 
 The light into dark.

 To hide from the pain and sorrow of a tragic day, 
 Hide inside and go away,

 Try and forget in ways that at the time seem fine 
 To a broken mind.

 Trauma is a most unpleasant visitor as it has no 
 Sympathy or kindness,

 Steals from one the smile and sometimes brings much 
 Fear, Forever scars.

 Falling, a deep hole in which a soul believes no escape,  
 Hurting the self appears the way,


 A path of destruction with no turning back, but wait!, 
 There is surely a chance.

 You found your way lost, between darkness and light, 
 You must fight to make it back,

 Something has happened that ripped you apart, not fair 
 But it was God's will.

 He knew you would fall, your test would be to find your 
 Way back from the darkness,

 You climbed out of that hole and with his hand you also 
 Found your way back to the light.

 Today holds a piece of yesterday, forever a thought, life  
 Does move ahead, Another day.
                            Keith Garrett

                     SHADOW ON A CURB

 A boy I remember once sat on a curb,


 On a warm, sunny, day over forty years ago I say.


 Listening to the airplanes going by, fly so high,


 Hands rested on his face, a street and a place far away.


 He would stare from where he sat, a thinking child,


 I remember him well when he lost that smile.


 A car that no longer moved, the life in it lost,


 Now the memory of a man who sat at the wheel.


 A place and a street that exists till this day,


 A curb where once a boy no more dreamed and played.


 What has faded now is a man and a car,


 A boy whose aged more than a father who at one time


 Carried him on his shoulders.


 Now from the trees, only a shadow on a curb you'll see,


 A memory of a boy who sat and stared at a car driven


 by a father whom he can no longer see.


                Keith Garrett

                     WHILE WE SLUMBER


 In the dark of night, quiet, all things sit still,


 Do they, while we slumber is all quiet and still.


 What goes on while we dream, Is the house the same,


 Are we safe with our eyes closed, does something watch.


 What noises, creeks, or anything live within the silence,


 When we're asleep what is it we do not see, things of 
 Every day.

 The doors do not move just as the chairs remain in place,


 We might think the house comes to life in our wondering 
 Minds.

 How can we truly know while we slumber the happenings 
 Around us,

 Fore we must sleep or forever dream with one eye open 
 To the darkness.

 While we slumber, we should not fear or have to wonder.

                                    Keith Garrett 

               THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD


 Through a twister, she journeys' across the sky,


 From her home In Kansas, she and her dog said goodbye.


 To fantasy from reality In a place she fell,


 Of tiny people, In this land where they dwelled.


 If home Is where she wanted then a walk she would 
 Take,

 Down a long road of yellow brick, to a city, she 
 Would make.

 Along the way three friends' she would meet,


 Searching for something, each one was unique.


 Till the end, they would fight a wicked soul,


 Conquer and receive what It was they were told.


 Click your heels' together, one, two, three,


 There's no place like home, back there she would be.


                       Keith Garrett 

                       WHY DID YOU NOT RUN


 Like thunder, explosions from different sites,


 Their weapons loaded, death was in their eyes.


 You saw them marching in the distance my friend,


 Closing in on you were those who did not know you.


 Did they leave you there alone, turn their backs and go,


 Were the men with you smarter,  were they pleading 
 With you?

 It should not have been this way, you were not left 
 To die,

 No sense can ever be made of this tragedy as I wonder 
 Why?

 My friend, why did you not run as were coming an 
 Army of guns,

 As I was told you must retreat, why did you remain and 
 Wait?

 I received the news from one at my door that you were 
 No more,

 The words I heard were that you were brave and a hero,


 This I would like to believe as you died needlessly.


                              Keith Garrett

                 WINCHESTER ROUND TABLE,

                 KNIGHTS OF TWENTY FIVE

 Times of old, in a land where stories are told, men 
 Of an oath,
 A place, old England where Kings and Queens ruled the 
 Land.
 There was, there existed those of a round table who 
 Would give their lives,
 They were knights of twenty five, the Winchester round 
 Table of long ago.
 Men of honor were these warriors of the day, heroes they 
 Might have been,
 Rescuing damsels in distress, fighting off those who 
 Would be evil men.
 They to never do outrage nor murder, always to flee treason,

 Men such as a King known as Arthur, Sir Galahad, or Sir
 Lancelot.
 To by no means be cruel but to give mercy unto him who 
 Asks for mercy,
 To always do ladies, gentlewomen, and widows succor, to 
 God be gallant.
 Knights with names of Sir Gawain, Sir Percivale, and Sir
 Lionell,
 To never force ladies, gentlewomen, or widows, not to  
 Take Up battles
 In wrongful quarrels for love or worldly goods.

 Men of the past, Sir Tristram De Lyones, Sir Gareth, and 
 Sir Bedivere,
 To never lay down arms, to seek after wonders, to help 
 The powerless.
 Sir Bleoberis, Sir La Cote Maletaile, and Sir Lucan were 
 Of the faithful,
 When called upon to defend the rights of the weak with 
 All one'.s strength.
 Sir Palomedes, Sir Lamorak, also Sir Bors De Ganis were 
 Noble,
 To injure no one, not to attack one another, to be a 
 Gentleman.
 There were others whom rode together many moons ago, 
 Knights of England,
 Sir Safer, Sir Pelleas, and Sir Kay, they would serve a 
 King back in the day.
 To fight for the safety of one's country, to give one's
 Life for one's country,
 Sir Ector De Maris, Sir Dagonet, and Sir Degore were of  
 The dedicated.
 To seek nothing before honour, never to break faith for 
 Any reason,
 They are of the round table, they are a court of men of 
 Principles.
 Men such as Sir Brunor Le, Noir, Sir Le, Bel Desconneu,
 And Sir Alymere,
 To practice religion most diligently, to grant 
 Hospitality To anyone.
 Each according to his ability, they were men like no  
 Other, Knights,
 Sir Mordred was also one of these men who once rode 
 The land.
 Whether in honour or disgrace, to make a report with 
 The greatest
 Fidelity to truth to those who keep the annals, Knights 
 Of twenty five.
 These were the men who'd lived many centuries ago in times 
 So different,
 They fought to protect the weak and to rid the land of 
 Evil forces.
 They were men of King Arthurs court, Knights of twenty 
 Five,
 They were the Knights of the Winchester round table.

                Keith Garrett

                RUST FROM TIME


 Sometimes to recall childhood days are lost with what 
 Life takes away,

 A bicycle of color sits for years until its age is seen 
 Through cobwebs so clear.

 A shed or a box of stored away and at times forgotten 
 Treasures are again a thought,

 Going back to a place where once we stood on sidewalks
 Of ghosts, Friends we knew.

 Trees grow taller, houses rest where inside we once knew 
 Those with faces and names,

 Hills where we wandered have disappeared  with this 
 Changing world.

 Nothing seems to stay the same, faces fade, children we 
 Knew all gone away,

 There are those times when I can just stand there and 
 Somewhere in the wind.

 When the night is quiet, there's a fragrance in the air, 
 That feeling of that yesterday,

 Like a cloud or veil as the seasons change and we all go 
 Our separate ways.

 Thoughts change, some memories drift with passing winds.


 Rust from time, if so blessed then may we all play the 
 Memories in our minds,

 For just a little while longer.


                  Keith Garrett

                                                                                           
              GIVE ME STRENGTH


 Days can be a struggle at times, feeling much 
 Alone,

 Physical pain and emotional scars are hard fought.


 Stress and the desire to overcome tire a body and mind,


 Worries of the time keep a soul from sleep in the night.


 Give me strength to make it through beyond this coming 
 Sunset,

 Guide me into my day of many challenges that tear at 
 my heart.

 Wisdom would be a true gift as I try to better my life 
 And self,

 Thank you for listening as there is much hope as I 
 Stand strong.
                                 Keith Garrett

                                                                                    
                 DESPERADO


 More than one hundred years ago he lived,


 In a small village somewhere in Mexico, a boy.


 Poor was his family as each day was a struggle,


 There were those close by, the bad ones who stole 
 Everything.

 A day came when his village was destroyed, family
 Killed,

 Survived did he to one day grow to be a man.


 Revenge would be his only friend, not a bad man 
 Was he,

 With pistols at his side he would seek justice.


 They called him desperado, a no good criminal,


 He stole from them who once took everything meaningful.


 His gun did the talking, anger ate at his soul,


 He lived by campfire, ate what he shot or stole,


 Justice was one day his, his reward was always on 
 The run.
                             Keith Garrett