AMONGST THE AUTUMN TREES

      AMONGST THE AUTUMN TREES



  Into the shadows, underneath the shaded trees,


  Footsteps on a carpet of leaves falling like rain.


  Glance do i at what's above, flashes of sunlight,


  Gleaming through living statues of brilliant color.


 A gentle breeze whispers past through the branches,


 Ornaments let go of the arms that hold them floating


  quietly and gently to the ground.


  Further into the Autumn day i venture,


 All is calm with nature as it invites me to share the day.


 Amongst the Autumn trees lies much more than one dares 
 To dream,

  A never ending cycle of life that can't always be seen.

                           Keith Garrett

IN THE MIRROR

                                                                  IN THE MIRROR

The morning came, as I got out of bed to the cold surroundings,

Headed to the bathroom as is usual, to an opened medicine cabinet.

I closed it not really wondering why it was opened and brushed

My teeth,

Quiet was the morning as I thought I heard my own voice speaking.

Imagination working, I thought to myself, again but it was calling me,

An eerie, long, whisper, perhaps a bit tired as I rationalized the moment.

Walking away I stopped and turned swearing I saw something in the mirror,

My skin crawled so I moved fast towards the door to get outside.

There was no one to tell because it would be I the crazy one indeed,

Whatever it was did exist, at least in the mind of a man now afraid.

I had to go back in there to see, to find out if it was real, was I crazy,

It wasn’t expected but when I looked in the mirror he as I now call him.

It was there staring at me, eyeing me, a tiny sort of a being.

My heart seemed to stop as he pointed to his face, I was in shock,

I now understood that he was me, in the mirror I now could see.

Keith Garrett

1943 nickel

                                                                    1943 NICKEL


           A nickel I came upon, old is its age,


          Dirty and worn, 1943 had a name.


         When it was made, which first pocket did hold,


        A celebrity of movies or a farmer tired at night.


        Could it have been the great Joe Dimaggio, 


        As time went by possibly a singer or olympian.


       A little boy had a nickel in his pocket, grew did he,


       A famous writer he became, a 1943 nickel, where could it be?


      Beyond seventy years this silver looking coin has traveled,


      Today it rests with me, who held onto it in 1943?

      Keith Garrett

A DARK ROAD

                              A DARK ROAD


  Surrounded by trees, so old on either side, a dark road,
 far and wide,


  It is said that this road steals what and whom passes on by 
  On a certain night.


  The sun never shines on this long and winding road that 
  creates many cries,


  Within the trees, beyond the road that rests in darkness, 
  Sleeps a mystery.


  A quiet morning drive across the country seems peaceful, 
  But something waits,


  A dark road exists, as all around it, something wakes and
  Waits for total darkness.


  Beautiful hills, and mountains have been here for so long but 
  There's a new resident here,


  An evil force, could this be a monster that's never seen, a dark      
  road where dreams are taken away.

                      Keith Garrett

A CHANCE TO SEE

                     A CHANCE TO SEE


  A chance to see fore never have i been able to walk 
  In light,

  A chance to watch the sunrise as never before seen but 
  Dreamed.

  A chance to see the trees sway in the wind as the wind 
  never seen,

  A chance to see the mountains that I never thought a reality.


  A chance to see the clouds so big in the sky drifting slowly by,


  A chance to see the waves in the ocean only heard through 
 A
 
chance to walk without a cane, to be free, walk, and see,


  A chance to see a smiling face that might smile back at me.


  A chance to see all the things that I have always dreamed,


  A chance to see what's never been before these eyes,


  A chance, a chance, to see what is in front of me.


                                Keith Garrett

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD

                       HAPPY FATHERS' DAY

                                    DAD


  I think of you often, memories are great,




  Remember when they weren't memories but real?




  Wow! Dad, you left and went away so many Fathers' days 
  ago,



  Part of me went with you back when I was a child at only 
  Seven.



  You have been loved forever, If this time on Earth is how 
  You're measured,



  Another Fathers' Day Dad, a most happy one to you, peace 
  Always.
                             Love you, Dad
                                     Keith

JERY WEST, MR. CLUTCH

                            JERRY WEST

                              MR. CLUTCH

  Nineteen thirty eight, born to a family, this  West 
  Virginia boy,


  Jerry West would one day be one of the greatest ever.



  His father was a coal mine worker, abuse and pain,



  A shotgun under his bed, in fear that he may be hurt again.



  East bank  high school, West Virginia university, Zeke from 
  Cabin Creek,


  Nicknamed Mr. Clutch, famous buzzer beating, sixty foot 
  Shot,


  Game three of the nineteen seventy NBA finals against the 
  Knicks.


  Fourteen straight all star appearances for this great Lakers star,



 The NBA logo, his silhouette, "Mr. outside" his great 
  Perimeter play.


  Purple gold uniform worn by a man, down the floor, game 
  after game,


 A nineteen seventy two, thirty three game win streak, and a 
 ring.


  Many records set from college to the pros, a hall of fame 
  Player, Jerry West.
       Keith Garrett

I’M HERE

I got really sick last week, very fast, one morning.

I had brain surgery and it was good, I’m home now.

Thank you all for reading my poetry.

Keith Garrett

MEMORIAL DAY

When we think of Memorial Day, what is it to me,

Is it the looked forward to barbecues with friends?

Maybe the beach and lying in the sun,

Going to the park with our children, relaxing.

Is it watching movies, drinking cold beer for the day,

Going away camping, forgetting the troubles in our way.

My father traveled the oceans, sailed the seven seas,

A navy man in the Korean war, his journal tells me

Of all the places, lands where he would be.

I hold in my possession the poetry he wrote on a ship

In a time of war,

The things I have to remember him by are not just

In a wooden box, they are stored in my heart.

When the sounds of planes, jets, or what flies on

Memorial Day,

Listen carefully, for the ones you love, miss, or lost.

Think of them today. for those who are lost, missing,

Who gave their lives for what they believed.

Pray for all of them, the thousands of family members

Who rest together in heaven.

,

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