HE HAD A DREAM

He use to be, he walked as a man,

Growing up as a child, harder than one could have imagined.

With strength and courage he stood for the fight,

So many against him as he marched for what’s right.

At times so scary to speak what you believe,

Most just complain, Oh! not he.

It took a demon, the devil in disguise,

To take from him what he told from inside.

He was once a boy but grew to become a man,

To tell of his cause as he walked with the people hand, in hand.

His name was Martin Luther King,

He was not forgotten because of an ignorant mans bullets ring.

He had a dream,

He was a man,

His dream is alive. Keith Garrett

HE WANTED TO BE REMEMBERED

A journey with a friend home, a journey all alone,

Last night at camp site, a time for conversation.

A little supper under the stars, light from a fire,

Unusual talk from the lips of a friend, saying something.

He wanted to leave his mark on the world, on a friend he would,

He was to go away that night, a friend by his side.

That started a friend thinking, he wanted to be remembered,

He needed to make his wife and family understand, for himself.

Afraid that he would be forgotten, so afraid, who would remember his name,

A project with his name on it, wood tables with only his Initials would be.

One hundred years later a single worn piece of furniture many would see,

His initials would be, his name never known, he wanted to be remembered.

Keith Garrett

THOUGHTS’ OF CLAIRE DE, LUNE

FRENCH FOR MOONLIGHT

A shadowy figure of a woman against a background of a shimmering lake,

Mystery woman, who could she be, who is she.?

Such beautiful music moves down into your soul,

Sounds of piano floating in your mind.

A symphony of beauty composed from the heart,

Peaceful and a little lonely is it.

Thoughts of love, memories of times since past,

Romance and spending time with that special one.

Music from heaven is where this comes,

A masterpiece of possibility dreaming, magic, and a wish of hope.

Keith Garrett

PIECES OF TIME

Our time as humans, animals, anything living loses time,

All created things age with time, there are many quotes about time.

Time does get older but never does it go away, never backwards,

A clock, a watch, the ancient sun dial that watched our day pass,

An hourglass of sand, those which remind us always of our time.

Pieces of time, a memory thought of with long lost friends, older now,

Pictures on a mantle, photographs and picture albums, dust covered.

Antiques, old relics lost with time, discovered within aging places,

Pieces of time, an old remembered house, friends that rest inside.

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

HOME YOU GO!

Close your eyes and open your mind,

Take a trip, home you go back to the snow.

You were only a child, a young boy back then,

Not so long ago to remember again.

Woods of trees, Christmas times that can never again be,

icicles hanging from the roof tops, snowmen at your feet.

Watch as it falls, snowballs made from the ground,

Grapes hanging on vines, friends back in time.

From thoughts you’ll see the house where you once lived,

See it from so long ago, life was beautiful,

Leave it there, any pain or sorrow, bury it deep in the snow.

It lives in your mind, let the sadness go,

Remember a place called Amesbury, for an uncle named Joe.

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 descent 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 whom 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

DAILY PLEASURES

Wake to the morning, a cup of tea or coffee,

Feeling the sun shine on a chilly, Fall morning.

Something to eat as again hunger visits me,

A shower, a hug from maybe someone you love.

Feeling good as health is a precious gift to enjoy,

A stroll down the street just my headphones and me.

A breath of life from morning through the dark of night,

Taken for granted at times, daily pleasures are so fine.

Keith Garrett

HEARTBEAT OF THE WORLD

From within, the earth rumbles, there’s heated liquid like blood,

Beating as a heart beats, energy and life, power inside a complicated world.

Rise to the surface, thoughts and wisdom, to learn becomes the brain not seen,

The flowing wind and air stands to be the breath, lungs of the land.

The moon that rests beyond the sky, the stars and planets that watch up high,

The eyes of the world could only be our creator god invisible to our sight.

Is it sadness in the world or tears of joy that make the sky cry,

A sacrifice as the water drops fall sustaining life and keeping beauty in sight.

Everything hears everything, ears of the land are everywhere,

The world lives as we live, take for granted and many things can do us in.

Keith Garrett

DOES THE SKY DREAM?

The sky is always night somewhere in our world,

Does it dream as it sleeps there where it rests.?

Awake as it does to the morning sunlight,

In another place it goes to bed again for the night.

There are friends all around this wide open space

That watch over each other in its universe.

Does the sky dream,? always as it exists,

What would it say if to us it spoke.?

Keith Garrett