HE STOOD BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

Driving along the dusty road I could see him In the distance,

A tall figure of a man, a long way from anywhere, who Is he.

Dressed In Jeans, a bit dirty to be expected, boots, and a dark shirt,

Warm outside In the middle of the Summer for where he stood.

What are you doing out here so far from civilization I asked him,

He did not speak, would you like a lift and maybe a drink of water.?

He hesitated and then stared, a very strange sort of man standing there,

There might possibly have been something wrong as he accepted the ride without words.

We traveled along for quite a while, music playing as quiet rode along with me,

He was such a mysterious being but for some reason, I felt trust In him.

We kept driving along the road, many sights to see, I looked at him, he smiled,

Who Is this man whom doesn’t speak and stood by the side of a road In the heat?

We came to a place where In front of us stood hills stretching far beyond our reach,

He motioned for me to stop, Put his hand on my shoulder and then again smiled,

Where are you going I asked,? He pointed, got out of my car and walked away,

Turning he said the words thank you friend and was no more to be seen.

Keith Garrett

HE SITS ON HIS THRONE

Making decisions, those at the top with minds so different,

They seek more power, these ones with minds no different.

Sane or not, their thoughts and actions alter our everyday,

Presidents, Kings, rulers of land, what do these tyrants understand.

Dollar signs are the pictures in their minds, money speaks loud,

Behind closed doors, beyond phones that tell secrets to others listening.

He sits on his throne taking care of his own, what does the world have to offer,?

Since so long ago from many distant and nearby lands, they rule with dirty hands.

The world is for all to discover, not for any one man to hold with gun in hand,

He sits on his throne, could be stabbed in the back, a position all alone.

Keith Garrett

FROM THESE EYES SEEN

What do I dream, look Into my eyes, what do I see,

To you, are my eyes beautiful, what do your eyes see.

My eyes shine In the light, they’re a color of brown,

A face I wear but you do not see, you will not see me.

From these eyes seen are amazing and wonderful things’,

In my time there have been tears’ shown to you, why.

These eyes take In all that will appear before them,

Do you know me, have you seen me before.

Keith Garrett

FROM 18 UNTIL THIS DAY

Much younger was I back when the sun rose much higher in the sky,

Still but a teenager as once a thought that I might have been a man.

When I was eighteen I was going to the beach, dreaming about life ahead,

Long blonde hair and searching for that always wanted Summer tan.

The sun begins to move west and I go beyond those teen years,

I follow the sun, it looks down upon me each morning then I chase it.

I walk the road, I live my life, the sun travels further than I can run,

The more I follow then the older I seem, I have dreamed, no more eighteen.

I am older than some friends once were, older than a father gone far away,

From 18 until this day I have changed in different ways, the sun now half way.

Keith Garrett

I HOPE YOU HAD THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE

You were once a child, do you remember being a girl?

Having your tea party, a dollhouse with all you pretend.

A swing set, do you remember riding the wind? so young back then,

Think back to your Kindergarten school, lost friends and you.

You saw things a son not born would ever see, you had dreams,

There were school dances and your favorite movie stars,

Listening to songs of great singers, drive-in movies, driving in cars.

You were born with the Wizard of Oz, wandered through the fifties as a teen,

Wars were many, the sixties and a family, all the places you have seen.

A touch older but will forever live in you, a little girl from long ago scenes,

I hope you had the time of your life,

Remember who you are, a girl who dreamed, Barbara Jean.

Happy Mother’s Day

Mom,

Love Keith

FOOTSTEPS OF EXISTENCE

My feet have walked in different shoes,

I have left a mark upon the land with feet.

On sidewalks as a child, footsteps much smaller,

Imprints not seen, back in time where I dreamed.

Footsteps of existence, invisible in some ways,

What we leave of ourselves, soul and spirit of no decay.

Keith Garrett

FLESH AND BLOOD

A friend, a doctor, to them a healer of anything,

For granted they take this human being of care.

He is not god, not a miracle worker they should know,

Flesh and blood, no magical powers does he possess.

He could not save a life fore he is a mortal man,

How could they expect more from him, he didn’t understand,

Flesh and blood, they found out he was merely flesh and blood.

Keith Garrett

FACE OF THUNDER

Appears with many a storm, it is not seen,

Growls, lets out an echoing roar from above.

Not a soft voice as it screeches out with anger,

Picture a face with mouth open wide, fiery eyes.

Traveling around, town to town, a booming sound,

Listen for the rumble, a face of thunder.

Keith Garrett

A BOY NAMED PAUL

I knew a boy by the name of Paul,

He went away late Summer or Fall.

When he was little he played in the snow,

These things I remember from long ago.

I think of the smile he had on his face,

It fades from my memory yet there’s still a trace.

When I think of him it reminds me,

Of just how fragile this life can be.

It makes me feel special for he came to me,

Just a short time before life set him free.

There was a boy by the name of Paul,

He laughed and played but that’s not all.

He had a life of which I speak,

Cut too short, it did not reach its peak.

I’ll think of him as you do,

A soul in heaven, a part of you.

For his mother, Father, and Sister.

Keith Garrett

GLORY OF HEAVEN

Lord, thank you for this life, the gift you have given,

I picture you on your beautiful throne, watching what has been.

There Is much beauty created throughout this mysterious world,

You are God, creator of everything and all that we dream, see me, Lord.

I think of you as I hope for life to continue on as I am not finished yet,

Thankful to have seen this land which you have dreamed In only days.

Such a masterpiece with time limited as the glory of Heaven forever to be,

Landscapes of perfection never ending, hills of green grass blowing in the wind,

Blue skies and nature live for eternity, The glory of Heaven exists not only In our minds.

Keith Garrett