THIS HOUSE

Standing along a Riverbank within years of trees,

This house so old has been for more than a century.

It has a story, secrets that remain inside its stone walls,

Built to withstand wars, survive the test of time.

Windows there are of many, windows that eyes have looked through,

Eyes that no longer see, lost in this house for eternity.

There are rooms that cannot speak fore if they could, horrible screams,

Those who have slept here never awaken from their peaceful dreams.

This house is not haunted as none of the dead have ever stayed,

It sits here quietly as all who have entered never go away.

Keith Garrett

THE DUSTY TRAIL

Traveling through an untamed land, I travel,

All that I own packed upon my horse and wagon.

There’s a lot of quiet time thinking and looking,

As the day ends I set camp, a fire, supper, and my horse.

Noises of the night are owls, crickets, or the wind,

Lucky am I to hold this guitar in hand.

Feed my horse and off to bed for a little rest,

A gun close by as I sleep with an open eye.

Just call me bob as when the sun rises I’ll be gone,

A hot cup of coffee, a bite to eat, and off I go.

The dusty trail takes me to many places of sight,

I travel by day then it’s time to stop for a much wanted, peaceful night.

Keith Garrett

THE BOUNTY HUNTER

A lonely life he leads roaming from here too there,

Across the desert and through the hills he travels.

For hire, always for the dollar, he’ll ride,

His friend is the gun, he hunts the wanted man.

Not a family or restful home of his own,

Every sunrise or sunset may be his last.

Across the country, a man, a gun for hire,

The bounty hunter rides into the sun,

Work for this man is never done, always the firing gun.

Watch out that he doesn’t come for you,

He is the bounty hunter.

Keith Garrett

IN THE COURSE OF A LIFETIME

Born we are, each of us with a purpose unless altered,

Nothing stops what we do depending on anything in our way.

We see so much with these eyes of mystery given from the master,

What about those without sight, is there a gift that comes from here,

Nothing taken for granted when you never saw what you are missing,

You now see with your heart and mind, this is what challenges your time,

We travel a thousand roads trying to choose the best way to go, we don’t know.

Decisions of intelligence, luck along the way, a prayer of hope and we may be okay,

In the course of a lifetime, we pass each other by, shake hands, laugh, and say goodbye.

Keith Garrett

JUDGMENT HAS A FACE

From behind a door, walking down a street, who are they?

They wander around, they look without a friendly sound.

With paper and pen, not a friend as they may smile but pretend,

Watched you are as you walk, speak, examined over a way you dress.

Judge me with your thoughts but what is there to see in you?

I am judged by those whom I never again see, strangers, some family.

Judgment has a face, not the same as it changes from day to place,

We are judged with the rotation of our world, travels with the wind.

Keith Garrett

MORTAL, I AM

To walk on water is an amazing thing I can not do,

Flying across the sky, never will I fly, a thought from my mind.

Through walls of solid never will my physical body walk,

I have not the power to raise my hands and change the world.

To part, the sea is a wonder that I’ve not yet seen,

Fire I cannot make rain from the sky, no not i.

I have not the ability to hide from pain,

Fear is an emotion that lives in the human being.

I am not god for it is that I may bleed and do,

I breathe the air but no guarantee of a tomorrow.

Mortal, I am, for now here I’ll stand and walk this land,

Older I’ll get as surely I will not live forever in this place.

One day I’ll die and pray that my new home will be beyond the sky.

Keith Garrett

MOUNT YOUR HORSES

More than two sides, men will die throughout the south,

Raise your swords, fire your guns, will this be your last rising sun.?

You fight for what, willing to die for a cause, do you know for what,

Is it really civil, this war between the states, what did you gain.?

Mount your horses! draw your swords, ride into the devil’s woods,

Uniforms of difference, colors that separate which side you’re on.

Homes would be burned, this battle among you not on distant land,

Neighbor against neighbor, brothers, and cousins fighting hand to hand.

Mount your horses! ride between the darkness and trees, cold it may be,

Blood against blood, the innocent will surely be a victim and die in the dust.

Cannon fire, bodies of men, women, and children scattered across the states,

When it’s over who will remember what this was all about, blood spilled for what.?

Keith Garrett

GIFT FOR AN OLD MAN

He rests in a wheelchair, he does not walk,

An old man Is not the proper phrase for you,

A human being, a man with feelings from the heart.

Wheelchair bound, how much longer will he be around,

A wish may be granted, a grandson in a high school play.

There would be no way to go until a special man would make it so,

A wheelchair ambulance, a request to a boss, an offer from a heart.

On his day off, someone I know, Timothy Harling from an Indiana town,

My girlfriend’s son, a gift for an old man makes him on this day, number one.

An EMT, six foot seven but gentle as a soul can be, Southbend is where he dreams,

This is to you, Tim, to give of your self, make an old man smile and his wish come true.

Timothy Harling, South Bend, Indiana.

Keith Garrett

FROM A LONG TIME AGO

I lived lifetimes ago on farmland worked with hands, a man’s hands,

A family we were, my wife, children, and animals for pets, back in time.

Possibly I went by the name of Sam, a man of principles, of beliefs,

My children may have been raised to believe in the lord, to respect.

If a wife I did have then she might have been a beautiful woman,

She would have been a great cook and a fine and decent person.

Imagine there would have been much love in our home,

Working hard from sunrise till sunset would have been this family.

Friends and neighbors with names now vanished into a memory,

A town that may have existed but no longer alive, a long time ago.

I may have been known as Sam from a long time ago, maybe so,

Land I may have owned and worked my fingers to the bone.

It’s possible this man of beliefs had a family that he loved so much,

I could have had children of which grew up and had families too.

To a man named Sam who may have lived a long time ago,

Whom may have lived with a loving wife, children, and had many

Caring and good friends, If I had known you from a long time ago.

Keith Garrett

ON A HORSE, SHE RIDES

On a horse she rides, this dark haired girl,

Against the wind with a smile so bright.

No worries have she, this angel of the night,

Two separate souls, sharing this time.

Happiness shows on her face as this creature walks on,

Just a friend and a friend, riding along.

All dressed in black, on a horse she rides,

With all of her team at her side.

She Gallops and trots across the land,

Just a girl and a horse, they go hand and hand.

Keith Garrett