I TAKE YOU ON A GREAT JOURNEY

It started with a dream, I came upon a black dog in the dark,

I could not move as a fool In the rain I was standing in my mind.

A great book was opened In the beginning, It spoke of a stairway to heaven,

I’m lost In sleep where the black mountain side appeared before me.

Visiting me on this night was a black countrywoman with a whole lotta’ love,

She would guide me out on the tiles where the ocean could be seen and dreamed.

In the evening we watched before our eyes, the Battle of Evermore as It was,

Many a man stepped up to the Gallows Pole, this would be their Wanton song.

I take you on a great journey, Thank you as the Immigrant song echoes from the sky,

What Is and what should never be remain a mystery, Life can be a heartbreaker.

While we are asleep could It be we are all taken on a Night flight? Good times, bad times,

You shook me but I did not wake, a search for the Houses of the holy In a dream.

I take you on a great journey, over the hills and far away,

To a magnificent place, where there lies a Stairway to Heaven.

Keith Garrett

AN ANGRY MAN

Anger, so much mistrust for the world, he’s angry,

That which he can not control, bothers him so.

Nothing wrong with letting it out, control is what it’s about,

Angry at that which has passed, let this go, an angry man knows.

Feeling at times the universe has let him down, the fire rages,

Inside he feels the water boil, what to do when there’s no place to run.

He pounds his fists against the stone wall, thoughts of vengeance stir,

Get even is one of many stories made from a man’s angry mind.

An angry man does not see the road clearly, thinking is altered,

Eats him up inside, wasted energy but how is he to do it right.?

He has been wronged, he is an angry man and needs a smart plan,

An angry man he can be, can an angry man soon find his peace.

Keith Garrett

THEY HAVE NO HOME

They’re everywhere, in the parks beyond daylight,

Cold and lonely as they hope to eat,

Under the freeways they hide from the world,

Day, by day they live and breathe.

In the alley’s, huddled beneath what shelters them,

Along the storm drains they make their homes.

They are the forgotten souls who are like you and me,

Pretend they are not there, they do not vanish away.

They have no home, sad as it may be,

Just one step away, just one bad circumstance

And there we all will be.

They have no home, everywhere they roam.

Keith Garrett

LOST IN THE WIND

The wind blows, where it goes only it knows,

An echo that sounds whenever it be around.

Listen when it roars, when it sleeps, hear the peace,

Feel the wind as it will move all around, touches what is found.

In the wind, what things do get lost, yesterdays thoughts,

Leaves from the trees, branches, or what tomorrow could bring,

Lost in the wind, material things, a soul that sings, everything.

Keith Garrett

THE FIRE HAS EYES

It crawls across the land with an anger, a vengeance,

It Is she who consumes me, burns my soul.

At times so hot that there’s pain from a distance,

My soul is on fire with that which is a woman.

Such an anger Is possessed by an energy brought to life,

She can be warm and friendly or danger In the night.

Destroy all that’s In Its path, no conscience, no remorse,

The fire has eyes, It follows a chosen trail, It shows what hurts.

the glow of Its light Is an amazing and beautiful sight,

Reaches to the sky, touches all that’s within Its flight.

The fire has eyes, searching for that which gives It life,

She Is noticed from a heart that beats heated from Inside.

Keith Garrett

WHERE THE GOD’S STAND

Looking to the sky I saw light and darkness of a billion nights,

Dark were the clouds, through them billions of years of light.

Somewhere beyond are gathered many lifetimes, souls of the departed,

From my eyes seen, a stormy sky like so many storms in time.

The crack of thunder heard by ancestors that rest in eternal peace.

I watched the sky move, the energy created was felt from inside,

The sky is filled with all that use to be traveling around and in between.

There is music in the sky, neverending tunes of laughter, long lost cries,

The wind swirls and runs forever just as the first day had begun.

The blood of all men and woman are mixed together with all time,

Where the Gods stand in a kingdom of many beliefs, spirits from a thousand lands.

Keith Garret

LOVE TRAVELS A DISTANCE

A boy and his dog, love between two,

Each day he waits at the stroke of four.

Soon they will be separated by circumstance,

Strength and courage will be tested, a faithful friend.

A boy cries in the night, a tear from a dogs eye,

Love travels a distance to see the smile on a face that cries.

Hundreds of miles traveled, across land and time,

Across a river swam, to the other side, love in a dog’s eyes.

He’ll meet many on the way, conquer with every stride,

Back home a boy waits, a prayer and wish in the night.

Struggle and pain, hunger or cold will not stop mans best friend,

Something so strong lives within this four legged friend.

At the stroke of four, he lies in wait,

Love travels a distance, together again.

Keith Garrett

As he sat down in his rocking chair he began to speak,

With a smile, he invited me to sit and went about his story.

His life as a child at the beginning of a war for Independence,

On a farm in South Carolina, he lived with a father, brothers, sisters.

He went on to tell of adventures in the Summer just before it happened,

A big house, great times with family, working the farm each day was tiring.

He must have been about ninety years old now, the war and those days long gone,

A childhood recalled, swimming in the pond with a friend or two, the night’s moon.

He told me of this war being all around them, nothing would be the same, much change,

Tears in his eyes as he described that time and place where brothers and family died.

He sits in his chair today, many years away from there, he lives in that house today,

He sits in his chair on that porch where as a child he played, he told me of his life.

Keith Garrett

THE WRONG BOOTH

Innocently he walks in, a quiet night,

His thoughts are of the moment, he sits.

A cup of coffee as his eyes wander this place,

He is not comfortable as he watches those around.

There is little sound as he rests his weary mind,

Eyes are upon him but he will not understand why.

Approached by one he does not know, he reacts quickly,

Injured as he runs away, the wrong booth he found today.

Keith Garrett