A PICTURE OF YOU


 Plenty of times I saw you, watched as you changed,


 A portrait of a baby, many years ago as time has 
 Aged it,

 As a child, you appeared a certain way, young at play.


 From twelve to seventeen, a face that went different
 Ways,

 Twenty was a special year, your first child, a boy 
 Mamed Gary.

 Seven children as the years went by, your picture 
 Changed,

 Beyond eighteen or twenty five, seasons changed in 
 Your eyes.

 Mom! I miss you, I think I can hear you when I sleep 
 In the night,

 A picture of you rests in my sight, a picture of you 
 In a book that I write.

                     Keith Garrett

                  "FOREVER"


 Above from the wide open sky the sun shines 
 Ever so bright,
 Will It warm our world always or one day say 
 A farewell.
 What If the wind that we can'not see goes away,

 Will It again blow across the hills and make the 
 Trees sway.
 The glowing moon sits like a lighthouse In the sky,

 Watching, always watching but for how long will It
 Rise.
 The rain falls from the sky, from the clouds that 
 Drift on by,
 Will the drops take from the Earth the thirst so as 
 Not to die.
 See the animals run through the woods and across 
 The plains,
 Today they live somewhat free, tomorrow will they be.

 We live, we love, dance to the music, sing from our 
 Hearts,
 Search for the happiness that makes It all worth living.

 There are things that may be never, things never lost,

 Nothing lasts forever fore forever we are not.


                Keith Garrett

                  A WHISPER


 A soft blowing breeze, Invisible to the eye,


 Hear It In your ear, listen to the whisper.


 The sun rises, day breaks slowly,


 Light replaces the dark, the morning whisper's.


 The kiss from a beautiful woman on your neck,


 Warm and soft, gentle as a whisper, a whisper.


 A smile shown to you, bright but quiet, silent,


 Like a whisper Is breath not seen but heard.


 A whisper Is love slightly heard but understood,


 A whisper Is real, a whisper Is words between two.


             Keith Garrett

               IN THE AIR,

              COMES A CHILL


 The Summer heat comes to Its end, August and 
 September gone,


 Autumn born again, Into the Winter It makes Its 
 Way, day by day.


 Earlier, shadows' can be seen on the face of the
 Mountains,


 From a distance how cold, oh! so very cold, they 
 Appear up high.


 The days' light disappears' earlier as the nights' 
 Grow long,


 A breeze across the sky tells us, In the air comes 
 A chill.


                                                                             
 Keith Garrett  

          IF I COULD STAND ON THE MOON


 From up so high beyond what Is sky, what I 
 Might see,

 Below motionless oceans, a creation of what 
 Was dreamed.

 The universe from all around, before these 
 Amazed eyes,

 From where I stand the earth could sit In my hand,
 Visualize.

 If I could stand on the moon then the stars I 
 Might touch,

 A comet speeding on by, a ride on It perhaps In
 My mind.

 Darkness stays here with me as I am In a far off land,


 What lives up here all dances In rhythm like a quiet 
 Song.

 Run I could not but float like a balloon would be 
 This man,

 If I could stand on the moon then I would be on top 
 Of the world.

                    Keith Garrett

              IF NO SIGHT HAD I


 Suddenly, so suddenly, my eyes, they could 
 No longer see,

 Where did everything go, what am I to become, 
 I'm blind.

 Darkness, only darkness can be my world now, to 
 Be afraid,

 Never again a sunny day, the night visits' me 
 Repeatedly.

 If no sight had I there would be many new thoughts' 
 And adventures,

 The wind I would hear as I did before, my Imagination 
 Would create.

 Pictured scenes of what It was doing.


 Music would still be heard although my mind could see 
 The story

 A song might tell with Its' words',


 A television show now only to be heard, no picture 
 Book to go with.

 A kiss could still be placed upon her lips', no sight 
 Or sound do I need,

 Feelings' here are what will be needed and a little 
 Senxe of touch.

 If no sight had I, life would be just fine.


              Keith Garrett 

              ABOVE THE WAVE


 Out on the horizon, beneath the sinking sun, 
 It rolls in,

 They all come to watch, they come to ride the 
 Wild surf.

 For the true surfer It comes from within, at one 
 With the wave,

 Shooting the tube, living on the edge, free to glide 
 Across the water.

 From Australia, the split, surfers' paradise, they 
 Battle the rolling storm,

 To Hawaii, waimea Bay, North Shore, Pipeline, or  
 Hanalei Bay, the wave.

 Above the wave where dreams' are made, surf the open 
 Water way,

 Around the world beyond the shores of Peru, to New 
 Zealand, Ride.

 Above the wave, beneath the wide open sky, forever ride,


 Touch the water and listen to the sound of the crashing 
 waves.

                  Keith Garrett

                                                                                                          
            ALWAYS A SHADOW



                                                                                     
 The sun comes up and the sun goes down,


                                                                            
 They're everywhere and always, make not a sound.


                                                                                    
 Shadows from clouds cast upon the ground,


                                                                                     
 As the sun goes down, shadows all around.


 Shadows upon the mountains in the early morning light,


 In the early evening, shadows that hide as darkness 
 Is in sight.

 Always a shadow, shapes and sizes stretched out across 
 The land,

 Shadows of figures, like ghosts, phantoms here and there.


 Always a shadow, we carry this with every step we take,


 Always a shadow even with the light still upon our face.

                   Keith Garrett

                                                                                                 
           AND THEN THERE WERE NONE



 A fight for survival, mans quest for power to rule,



                                                                                   
 Fear and ignorance but money will be the tool.



                                                                                    
 Inventors of destruction, builders of a  force,



                                                                                   
 The enemy is our brother, traitor to the land.



                                                                                        Which side are we on, who is on our side,



                                                                                
 Conflict and hatred, how many must have to die?



                                                                                 
 And then there were none, not much left to say,



                                                                                
 Put the bombs away, we may have another day.


                Keith Garrett

                  TO OUR OWN TUNE,

                   bWE WILL DANCE


 Different we are from one another,


 The things' we do different make us like no 
 Other.

 Some of us move with an unusual step,


 Or others' may talk high pitched or deep voice.


 A person may think of the same thing unlike a 
 Stranger or friend,

 None are the same, we may wonder why till the end.


 Why we see through our eyes In our own way,


 Makes each one special every day.


 Dance we will to our own tune.


                 Keith Garrett