SHE LIVED IN THE WOODS


  Hidden from sunlight, beneath the tall 
  Aging trees,
  Deep in the woods, alone lived she.

  A different kind of world, quiet, except for 
  The creatures that be,
  A woman so aged, seems that she'd been 
  Here for eternity.
  So far below that which grows, the falling rain 
  Can barely touch,
  In a rickety old cabin, she had not much.

  Only sounds of the woods, kept her company,

  In a dark, lost existence, she lived to be so old,

  Not of loneliness.

  Many things did she, to occupy her moments, of 
  A ife meant to be,
  Never a face shown to her, only memories of 
  Childhood dreams.
  She lived in the woods, somewhere you see,

  An old, old woman, gone and not missed but
  Who was she?

                          Keith Garrett 

                   IN THE DARK OF NIGHT


   As the moon rises, darkness falls,


   A full moon so bright, what's out there in the dark?


   They awake, Life that wanders after daylight,


   In the hills, among the trees, they can see.


   The wolf howls, its shadow rests in the moonlight,


   Hunger in its thoughts, searches in the dark.


   An owl can fly, it sits in a tree,


   Keeps watch from up high, everywhere nature is alive.


   The Coyote marches on, preying on what is not strong,


   There's a battle for survival, this circle of life.


   In the dark of night, they work until Dawns early light,


   That which hunts, the strong will survive, in the dark 
  Of night.
         Keith Garrett

                       I AM HERE


  I am here, always I am here, though you do not see,


  With you I stay, axxompany you each and every day.


  You go nowhere without me, we are one,


  I feel as you feel, I am here.


  I am here when the day is done,


  I am with you with the rising sun.


  Your pain or sorrow, laughter or happiness,


  It is shared between us, one day we will part.


  I can not be seen, within you I dwell,


  I am who you are, mind, spirit, and soul.

            Keith Garrett

                     TO SIT IN THE SAND


  By myself, with the wind in my face,


  Watching out, towards the horizon, I sit in 
  The sand.

  Above, only sky that has no ending to my eyes,


  Birds that fly, drift silently on by.


  The waves are a sight, crashing on the beach,


  Who would be the man who sat here once, and 
  Dared to dream.

  To sit in the sand, warm, to the touch of my feet,


  Thoughts fill my wandering mind, what things do 
  All of this teach.

  To sit in the sand, peaceful is where I am,


  Memories of times, all that I did in life, felt from inside.

        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 

                 LISTEN TO THE WIND

  The wind has millions of years, of echoing sounds,

  An invisible entity that's been always spinning around.

  What it knows, that which it has seen is unbelievable,

  The wind has whistled through many a war,

  It has touched the falling rain in all places.

  The wind has given power, and force to the sea,

  It will be here when we drift off in heaven to be.

  Listen to the wind, as it speaks from the beginning 
  Of time,

  It knows where it has been, and it will travel into eternity.

                       Keith Garrett

                       WATCH THE WIND   


 The trees dance and sing, they speak, 


  Swaying back and forth, up above.


  Leaves, and many material things are swept


  Away, through the streets,


  See the windows shake to what moves.


  Grass is like a flowing wave,


  There's a presence that moves.


  The sea crashes against the rocks,


  It's a force that drives its course.


  There lies within the eyes, a picture,


  From all that it does, a form exists,


  Watch the wind, see it travel, watch the wind.

          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

                         SAIL WITH ME


  Give me this day, this moment In time, 
  Dear friend,

  Come on board, come with me on a
  Magical journey.

  If love Is In your hear, If care Is In your soul, 
  Sweet one,

  Sail away, sail with me across the horizon, 
  Beyond, Far beyond.

  Let the wind carry us, through the morning fog, 
  Into the rising sun,

  Together we watch, as whales and dolphins 
  Sing to all who listen.

  The water rises and falls, as we glide across Gods'
  Playground,

  Come sit close, take hold of this hand, lay your 
  head upon

  My strong shoulder, as my words to you say,
  Let me be your man.

  Sail with me darling, as the sun goes down and 
  The stars awake,

  Dream with me, as we traavel Into the night, 
  Goodnight.

                                   Keith Garrett

                    PAGES


  My life starts' out like a book, not yet a cover,



  Nothing Inside, page one still not printed.



  My story, constantly being written with every
  Breath,


  How many pages there will be, not known till
  The end.


  This title was Imagined before my creation,



  Cover to cover, Is mine to write, as I walk my life.
 


With each turning page, I illustrate my own time,




  The one before this, just a memory In my mind.



  Stay open It does, until my story Is told,



  Until I've been published, this mans' book will 
  Not be closed.

                                  Keith Garrett