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
Author: Man of many thoughts
WHISKEY FOR MY MEN, BEER FOR MY HORSES.
WHISKEY FOR MY MEN,
BEER FOR MY HORSES.
They rise before the sun, breakfast, a day begun,
Men of a ranch know what it takes to get the job done.
There is much to do so off they run, dawn to dusk,
Baling hay, stalls to be attended to, never done.
Digging posts, mending fences along the road,
little fun, men working in the sun.
Breaking a horse, they become one, now the sun
Touches the ground,
The day is done, whiskey for my men, maybe a smoke,
These horses, like men, work from sunrise till
Days' end.
Riding them to where the job need be done,
Pulling a wagon, exercising, or being groomed.
Part of a ranch, friend's, man and horse,
They jump and gallop, run like the wind.
A roundup they work, play in the sun,
Just as the rest, when the day is done, beer
For my horses,
Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses.
Keith Garrett
EVERYBODY’S GOING THROUGH SOMETHING
EVERYBODY'S GOING THROUGH SOMETHING
It is that people move each day, go their own way,
A struggle to survive, a faster pace is their lives.
Are we really living or merely trying to get through
The day,
In between that which we do exists a fight of our own.
Some of us do it alone, others with much help from
Caring ones,'
We never leave ourselves as we travel along with a
Tune in our head.
Mentally or physically, we all have something
Happening always,
Everybody's going through something and we can never
Run from it.
Keith Garrett
WHERE THE GEESE DREAM
WHERE THE GEESE DREAM
I think of a place, hidden from the world,
A secret land safe from mankind, still with beauty.
Within these trees and plant life sits a lake
Like glass,
So calm when the air is still, moves slowly within
A breeze.
There is a sound of peace here, frogs and fish move
Along quietly,
There is a mystery about this world, they come as one,
Never seen.
A special place, left untouched by those who destroy
What is beautiful,
When you step into it you will be stunned by these
Creatures of thousands,
Here is where there is peace, this is where the
Geese dream.
Keith Garrett
A PERFECT CRIME
A PERFECT CRIME
They think that they are of something unique,
No one ever is watching, no one sees, they think.
They plot and they plan, not so logical, woman or man,
Thoughts that roam their scary, sick minds,
They act calm and kind as they plan ones demise.
A perfect crime of many sorts fill the criminal
Minds,
They seem not to worried about being caught at
The time.
Going on with their deeds believing they will always
Be free,
When they plan a perfect crime, what is in their minds.
Keith Garrett
A BIG HEART
A BIG HEART
He was a small man but only in height,
He would lose his wife as a child was born.
Lou was his name, a man so kind,
Trying to survive, taking care of his daughter.
A job was needed, treated like some kind of freak,
Turned away, desperate, he would steal for a meal.
This is not who he was, why are people so
Ignorant and mean,
Confined to jail by one whom did not care, a much
Needed favor.
A daughter in danger, this little man with a big heart
Was needed,
Risk his life he would, even for those whom did look
Down upon.
A big heart in a man who did appear to stand taller
Than all,
Keith Garrett
THREE ROADS TAKEN
THREE ROADS TAKEN
The forest, the hills', and the desert traveled,
These three, these men of faith will be challenged.
Where do I go, alone will I know, asks the first seeker,
I'll take the first road, I'll find my way to the
Forest.
The way home for me will be found, we'll meet in a
Place,
The forest will show me many things, a search so
Beautiful.
It's time for me to go, my road has been chosen,
I'll make my way into the hills', these words spoken.
We will come together once more, somewhere in time,
Travel I will into the quiet hills' of discovery,
A road taken.
Fore the third wandering man will journey across
The desert,
A road meant for only he, unbelievable scenes
To his eyes.
The desert will teach this alone man lessons
Of the heart,
His way home will be hard fought, they will find
the same road.
Three roads taken, three men walk a path alone,
In the end, they will stand together in the hills',
The forest,
And in the desert, these men of three will never
find again this home but all will be as one,
they will find their way home.
Keith Garrett
JUST AN ECHO
"JUST AN ECHO"
If you listen carefully your memories can be heard,
Words' and phrases spoken or listened too are recorded.
Thoughts' In your head feel at times louder, just
An echo,
Sounds' and scenes from a lifetime played over,
Can you hear?
Noises from children playing back when just a child,
Just a child,
Friends' from long ago, just an echo In time, listen,
They can be heard.
In the span of a lifetime, like the wind moving by,
Created in an instance,
An echo In time we will be, just an echo In time for
You and me.
Keith Garrett
STORIES ARE TOLD
STORIES ARE TOLD
Traditions of story telling from thousands of years,
Around campfires and in homes in times of old.
Thought up from Imaginations or a small tale
That grows,
Fables told by a Grandfather to a child in countries
Of old.
A bedtime adventure from a book to send you off
to dream,
Around the world many have listened, stories
Across the sea.
Stories are told that touch ones soul," listen child"
They never grow too old,
Generation to Generation, within cultures of
Different beliefs, a tale that speaks.
Keith Garrett
I NEVER DREAM OF YOU
I NEVER DREAM OF YOU
It sure has been a long time, sir, now closer than
Once before,
I am older than you now, you were thirty seven as I
Was once seven.
Always thinking of you but why I never dream of you
Is not known,
Dreams fill my head for a lifetime as I can only make
Them up in the light,
I wish there were nightly dreams of you father, nothing
Comes to my mind.
I never dream of you, sleep does not let me ever see
Again your face,
Because you went away that day your face fades and that
Is hurting my every day.
What blocks you from my mind, does death take too
Much away,
I never dream of you but the memories will live
Until eternity.
Keith Garrett
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