AND THEN THERE WERE NONE



  A fight for survival, mans quest for power to rule,



  Fear and ignorance but money will be the tool.



  Inventors of destruction, builders of a  force,



  The enemy is our brother, traitor to the land.



   Which side are we on, who is on our side,



   Conflict and hatred, how many must have to die?



   And then there were none, not much left to say,



   Put the bombs away, we may have another day.


                          Keith Garrett

                       A HORSE CALLED STORM


  Jet black, tall and strong, he stands in the morning 
  Light,

  Out in the grassland, roams this free spirit.


  Never ridden, not a man calls him theirs,


  Answers to not a soul,does this horse left alone.


  His name is storm, dark as the night,


  Moves like lightning, sounds like thunder.


   Fierce and at times mean is this beast,


   Untamed by man, natural and free.


   He is friends with each day, land where he runs,


   A horse called storm standing in the sun.

                         Keith Garrett

                          A SUMMER NIGHT



  When the sun goes down and the heat of day fades,


  A quiet visits the night, crickets are alive, yet not in sight.


  Darkness has a certain fee, peaceful is my thought,
  

While many living things drift off to sleep, day begins too.


  Stars so bright, hanging in stillness beyond what is sky,


  The moon shows its light,  high above, it watches always,


   A Summer night has its own beauty, till mornings light.


                        Keith Garrett

                               A SIMPLE DAY



  Wake up to a mixture of clouds and sun,



  Feed the birds and squirrels, it's morning now.



  A cup of coffee, no caffeine for me, a quiet thought,



  The world is much to fast, faster than what I have come
  To be.


  I can now get things done, the way I want it to be for me.



  A simple day in the rain or sun, I have some time to have 
  some fun.


  At the computer, my thoughts are given out to the world.



  A simple day, nothing gets in my way, I can keep to myself,



  A movie, a show, exercise that keeps me healthy and ready 
  To go.

                          Keith Garrett

                        A SMALL HOUSE


  Along the banks of a river, is home,


  Apple trees and hills of grass live here.


  A small house for a family of people,


  Food on the table and a fire burning warm.


  Sitting on the porch, a fiddle in hand I am,


 A pipe to smoke is an evening kind of thing.


  Horses are down for the night, children in our sight,


  Nineteenth century life is quite a fight.


  A small house is all we need to believe,


  Hopes and dreams are seen as far as our eyes can see.

                            Keith Garrett

   A DIFFERENT KIND OF HOME

  I thought about it a little more recently as 
  I stroll through the park,

  So sad it is for some of them as they are hard 
  Working and lost everything.

  For others, there are no excuses, only bad choices 
  Or criminal doing,

  Some get lost in the cracks as the help that is for           
  Them needed, does not care.

  We have homeless heroes, how is it possible when 
  They gave their all,

  Some are sick and hurt as they lost more than their 
  Material life.

  A  different kind of home, they now have, not what 
  They remember,

   Let me describe it to you, some of us are a paycheck 
   Away, maybe a day.

  The roof over their head may be a clear sky or a rainy 
  Night,

  The walls around them are not the same as they often 
  Change.

  A couch wherever they sit, a bed wherever they rest 
  Their head,

  Television set, that which is taken in by their wishing eyes.


  A shower, for granted taken each day, when will a 
  shower come their way,

  gone now is the refrigerator that was, like an animal they 
  Search now.

  A different kind of home, not that they can call their own, 
  They roam,

  Circumstances of why, many reasons you see, sadness 
  Wears many feet.
               Keith Garrett                                                       

                        A VIEW WORTH SEEING



  Fortunate if you are to see throught the darkness,


  For granted, do not take the gift of light, always night.


  Scenes and visions from the mind are wonderful at times,


  To open your eyes and nothing rests in your sight, a fright.


  A view worth seeing, comes to the grateful eyes, day 
  Or night,

  The morning light, with the birds beautiful, in your sight.


  Wherever you go, a picture of color awaits, always changing,


  Each day a different view, open your eyes to a view worth 
  Seeing.
                         Keith Garrett

                         A PAGE FROM YESTERDAY


  Memories, a window to our past, pictures of 
  Special times,
  Friends' we once knew, where are they now, 
  Somewhere.
 There are those no longer among us, their story 
  Is written,
  A book closed, put away on a shelf but forever 
  Cherished.
  We thought as children that life was magic and 
  Wishes,
  Teenagers having fun, trying to figure out where 
  We were going.
  We were fortunate to have been given such friends,' 
  Back in time,
  Lucky If we are still blessed with their presence today.
  We take a page from yesterday, off comes that book 
  From its place,
  Remember that friend In our heart that never disappears, 
  that face.
  A voice that was once heard, a smile, now an echo, 
  Forever a thought,
  Well! today some of those faces, those voices, and a 
  Smile remembered
  Are here to share a night, a memory and a page again
  Written, a book.
                              Keith Garrett  

                                    "BILLY  JACK"


  Hatred was not what he was about, time would 
  Make him hate worldly things,

  Hurt was something he did not want to put upon 
  Any man, He would be forced to fight.

  He had a temper, beliefs that would put him and 
  Those he loved in harms way,

  He was not wrong, society and those of corruption 
  Decided he was not in the right.

  Integrity of one man, again he would stand as one 
  Tin soldier against the wrong,

  He stands at times alone, not without love of the people, 
  Against the corrupted souls.

 "Billy Jack" I read about you as a child, I sat under a tree 
  As a dreaming boy for a while,

  A book that made me want to see more, A movie, a man, 
  And much much more.

  You were a war hero, just as you did see what was wrong 
  With government and war,

  Never did you run or hide, you went away at times to 
  Find peace, to be alone.

  Not a criminal or murderer, as you defended against those 
  Who would do you wrong,

  Society saw things a different way, when you took off your 
  Boots and raised a gun your way.

  On the bloody morning after, one tin soldier rides away, 
  Then back he would stay.
                    Keith Garrett

                            DREAMS'


 Dreams,' like the hopes and wishes that rest 
 In our hearts,

  Some come true, If for us only a shattered few, 
  Like you.

  Dreams' are a look Into the future of our wanting 
  Thoughts,

  Reasons' and seasons' for them to be or be not.


 Dreams' may bring love to a heart so lonely and of care,


  What Is a dream If never with another shared.


  I dream of one day when a dreamers' heart finds mine,


  We'll walk as one but two different lives.


                          Keith Garrett