TRAIN RIDE

  Awaiting Its' arrival as here It comes to take me away,


  Sounds like thunder rumbling down the track, whistling.


  Puffing black smoke up Into the air, Its' headlight shining,


  This monster of steel Is here, time for me to climb aboard.


  Listen to the hissing from this steam engine, hear It,


  We take off heading through the hills' with much to see.


  From out of the window stare do I as we pass through,


  Darkness from within a mountain carved out a passage.


  Tons of rock and dirt hanging above us as we travel,


  Moving through this tunnel Into the light, sun going down.


  I listen to the sound of the power of this traveling train,


  Out of the window Is a clear sky as the light from the full 
  Moon

  Shines down, guiding our way across the land.


                            Keith Garrett 

                               WITH CLOSED EYES


  Many things' are noticed when one can't see,


  Against our face the wind, or a bird chirping In 
  A tree.

  From the air, the sound of a plane soaring by,


  Thunderclaps as loud as a sonic boom.


  People laughing with each other, driving past,


  Dogs' barking In a near by yard as they're listened to.


  The sound of music heard through an open window,


  Two people In love saying goodbye at the door.


  There are many, many things, we notice with closed eyes,


  Not only the darkness thats' with us Inside.


  The mind will open at the time our eyes close,


  And see more than can be Imagined In this dark world.


                           Keith Garrett  

                      THESE THINGS I DREAM


  Within myself, thinking of  a place In another reality,




  What lies around me may be a different consciousness.




  This state of mind as I am not awake, floating, floating,




   I see a world like never have I Imagined before, I see.




  Visions' sent to my brain, pictures of stories past or future,




  These things' I dream, a mystery from an eternity.


                     Keith Garrett                

                           YEARBOOKS


  Forty six years old, dust and cobwebs, they
  Waited for me,

  These books I remember during my years at 
  A long ago school.

  Bernardo Yorba is where I made my journey on 
  An early morning cruise,

  When I saw those yearbooks, what memories 
  They brought to me.

  When I opened those yearbooks there was before
  My eyes, yesterday,

  Turning the pages showed me many ghosts of friends, 
  Images from the past.

  I picture them moving along across the school campus, 
  Laughing as once before,

  The sounds of those school days, I can hear in my head, 
  Looking through books.

  Action shots from our years at a school, Bernardo Yorba, 
  A little fun back then,

  Pictures of teachers, some are gone now, their voices 
  Echo through yearbooks.

         Keith Garrett

                            ZEPHYR


  Soft as a gentle kiss, a touch on the skin of a
  Memory in the wind,

  A soft breeze, a West wind blowing through 
  The trees, across the sea.

  Travels' through the years', not a face does It 
  Wear as it whispers,

  It can only be seen with eyes that dream, soft 
  As it speaks.

  It changes tides, moves past and around what 
  In nature exists,

  Night and day, It will go from here and there, 
  Place to place.

  It Is the Zephyr, has been since before the 
  Time of man,

  Energy without form, created by God In heaven, 
  When and how long ago.

  For It, no beginning, no ending as It howls' 
  Through time, not seen but why,

  Powerful, as It Is with no body or soul, why does 
  It know just where to go.

                             Keith Garrett                   

                       " THEY WERE DIFFERENT"


  He walked down the street full of laughter and fun,


  He was poor with no money but no worries had he.


  She was from a different world, of money and 
  Material things,

  A young woman with everything but she had nothing.


  He was free with dreams' that were possibly only dreams',


   What he wanted was only to be, what he wanted was she.


   She was art, dance, and culture passed on by a family,


   What she wanted was to be set free, treasure was not 
  just money.

  He appeared as a man whose clothing meant he had 
  No worth,

  But what Is the worth of a well dressed man with no 
  Integrity.

  They were different she and he, drawn together by feelings',


  The heart, the eyes, the touch of man to woman and 
  Woman to man.

  They were different but they were the same, walking 
  Hand in hand,

  With what's love and pain.


                              Keith Garrett

                       ON THIS MOUNTAIN


  As a child, he lived here many years before,


  The great depression was not a time of all 
  Pleasant things.

  It was however, a time of childhoods, a sunset 
  For some,

  There was a family of fathers and mothers, sons 
  And daughters.

  A boy he was of seventeen, a dreamer, a writer,


  He had nothing, but he had also, everything.


   On this mountain in Virginia, he was born,


   So many days ago, long gone are they now.


  He wrote his many thoughts, by a lamp in the night,


  Played games with his brothers and sisters.


  This family sat together for dinner each night,


   A lifetime ago, is when this story was told.


   By a boy, who with his family, struggled, but


   Did laugh as they were blessed with much love


  And togetherness,   


  On this mountain, once upon a time.

           Keith Garrett

                OVER THE RAINBOW


   Where dreams await those who wish,


   Fantasies come to life, a heart does not ache.


  The magic of possibilities are a reach away,


  Hurtful things have not a place to play.


  Where beautiful things can not be destroyed,


   Birds of blue, fly, they sing in the sky.


  nothing to make you cry, beyond a rainbow up 
  So high,

   The trees are filed with a fruit so sweet.


  Over the rainbow, where all things imagined, may 
  Come true,

  Thoughts of love and hope are clearly understood


   But heard of once before,


  Might there be such a place, where these things can 
  Come true?
        Keith Garrett

                             SUNRISE


  Darkness disappears' as day comes to life,


  Footsteps of mine traveling the morning light.


  The fog begins' to lift, showing the beauty of God,


  I walk this way with hope by my side.


  Quiet as It's early fore sleep still lingers,'


  On the move are these legs, tired, forever tired.


  Rays of light shine through the distant clouds,


  Sunrise has a story for a man roaming alone.


  Everything has changed as the days' seem the same,


  A song, he sings' a song In my ear always heard.


  My favorite music from the man from Jersey,


  Sunrise, sweet sunrise, each day my journey.


                          Keith Garrett  

            CRY BY THE LIGHT OF THE NIGHT!


  When there's nothing left, only those who 
  Are of destruction,

  They live, but they are without a soul, a heart, 
  Any love connection.

  Hunt we do for food, water gathered by the 
  Riverside, I cry,

  How for personal gain and greed can it all be 
  Thrown away?

  We run from the day, dodge by the dark of an 
  Endless night,

  Sleep is rare, with an eye open, weapons are to 
  Be a trusted friend.

  There's no time being afraid when you're running 
  For your life,

  The thought of what's right or wrong lives in your 
  Weary minds.

  Cry by the light of the night! run in the darkness, 
  Seek daylight,

  The battle may be strong, the war will end, I'll be 
  With you again.
                            Keith Garrett