WORLDLY GOODS

We leave it behind, go only with that which we were born,

Over a lifetime we accumulate many possessions of love.

Material belongings come and go, of use for but a moment,

Why we treasure items made by another, there is a value.

These things we use in our everyday, tools, things of help,

Material things are not what rates us as human beings although

To some it is the measure of success of a man, sad as it is.

Worldly goods are sometimes earned and at times found,

Good in a person much more precious than gold from the ground.

Keith Garrett

TALE OF AN OUTLAW

Sit back and listen as I tell you this tale of an outlaw,

As a child his future was uncertain as both mother and father were killed.

Hungry with no one to turn too he begged for food,

Slept wherever might be shelter, survived as a thief.

As he grew he then met those whom lived as he lived,

Without skills of his own he set out on a stolen horse.

He now was a thief and an outlaw, listen further,

With a gun he did not own he now robbed from those whom did not steal.

Finally he faced one who did not wish to give,

Murder was now his ultimate crime.

Hunted down by a sheriff and a posse, he was then caught,

Because he could not travel a road of good,

He now layed in the dirty street, dead.

Keith Garrett

THERE ONCE LIVED A MAN

Many lifetimes ago there lived a youthful man,

He worked hard, he did all that a man can.

On his farm, awoke when the rooster said,

Watched the sunrise, breakfast began his day.

A simple man who worked hard on his land,

Crops in the field, a little money in his hand.

He had a wife with a pretty smile,

She was there when the day was done,

As he walked in from the setting sun.

Supper on the table, tired was this man and wife,

A warm fire and some conversation till sleep set in their eyes.

Children were grown, an adventure of their own,

A mother, a father, in a home now alone.

There once was a man who loved all that he had.

Keith Garrett

THREE ROADS TAKEN

The forest, the hills’, and the desert traveled,

These three, these men of faith will be challenged.

Where do I go, alone will I know, asks the first seeker,

I’ll take the first road, I’ll find my way to the forest.

The way home for me will be found, we’ll meet in a place,

The forest will show me many things, a search so beautiful.

It’s time for me to go, my road has been chosen,

I’ll make my way into the hills’, these words spoken.

We will come together once more, somewhere in time,

Travel I will into the quiet hills’ of discovery, a road taken.

Fore the third wandering man will journey across the desert,

A road meant for only he, unbelievable scenes to his eyes.

The desert will teach this alone man lessons of the heart,

His way home will be hard fought, they will find the same road.

Three roads taken, three men walk a path alone,

In the end they will stand together in the hills’, the forest,

And in the desert, these men of three will never find again

This home but all will be as one, they will find their way home.

Keith Garrett

THE BRAVE MAN PUTS DOWN HIS SWORD

Anger eats’ at his heart, hurt devours’ this mans’ loving soul,

He fights’ within himself as he seeks the peace of restful sleep.

Listen to this man as he asks to be heard among the screaming noise,

A battle rages between pain and the happiness so desired for so long.

What does a man see when hate and mistrust rule his hopes and dreams’,

He seeks to walk out from the darkness and let the fight die with yesterday.

The brave man awakes to his morning and breathes the hopeful day,

With his hand he takes from his belt the sorrow, let It go away.

The brave man puts down his sword fore there exists another way,

The battle needs not to be won, the war created and destroyed by only he.

Keith Garrett

SHE SPOKE OF HER YESTERDAY

Today much older as she speaks of a life once hers,

Not many footsteps away from a town that had life.

She rests at this moment in a home for the elderly,

Although her mind and spirit are as young as her days in the sun.

She spoke of her yesterday, a family of love and plenty,

Her life in a town that was full of life and energy, now aged and still.

Memories flooded her thoughts as she would step back in time,

She spoke of her yesterday to a friend from today, bringing it to life,

We get old with our story to be told, we have something to say, something to give.

Keith Garrett

RAGS TO RICHES

He went to rags after some unexpected events,

Wandering the streets with not so much to eat.

Down on his luck with not more than a buck,

Things would change in a most unusual way.

A chance to prove he was smarter than a fool,

He rose from the dirty ground, smarter than he knew.

On top of the world, a financial breakthrough be told,

A story of losing all you have, rags to riches, maybe back.

Keith Garrett

THIS TRAIN

All aboard! the conductor yells out loud,

Show your tickets, this train makes its sound.

A western world, you’ll be taken for a ride,

Journey too many places, from this train you’ll see.

From out of your window a cattle drive is noticed,

A cowboy travels from town to town.

In the distance Indians do their own thing,

This train bound for a new life for some.

It’s a chance you take riding a train,

Robbers on horses have trouble on their minds,

In a western world, a dangerous time.

Keith Garrett

WHEN THEY TOOK HIS HOME

A time of war, eighteen sixty three, many sides,

Not part of the war, the innocent among the casualties.

A simple farmer just wanting peace with his family,

They came, riders through a dusty cloud of destruction.

They killed his wife and son, again he picks up his gun,

Does not rest, will not until he finds these cowardly men.

When they took his home they took his life and soul,

Branded an outlaw he rode until he found who stole.

Keith Garrett

LOST IN THE WILD

To step outside the world that I’ve known,

Leave it all behind and those whom know me.

Off on a great journey to see it all,

Into the wilderness as if nothing else matters anymore.

Too try things never tried before,

Experience life through a new open door.

Perhaps a fear of what lies ahead,

I trek across the land, survive if I can.

See many new things from my eyes,

Into the night I hear nature cry.

Not expecting never to go home again,

Lost in the wild is where my life ends.

Keith Garrett