STRENGTH


  The lion Is strong and fearless as he roams' 
  The jungle,


  It Is known that he Is there, his crown Invisible 
  But seen.


  There Is strength In a man who stands' up for 
  What he believes,


  He Is strong and powerful, with words' of 
  Knowledge or silence.


  Doing what Is hardest, doing what scares one, 
  But must be done,


  Facing ones' self In the mirror, and admitting
  He has faults.


  Strength Is letting your emotions' show, but 
  Kept in control,


  Knowing Inside there's a man, although 
  vulnerable.


  I am a man, I have strength.



                             Keith Garrett

                              THE DARCYS

                I'VE NEVER FORGOTTEN YOU

  The year was nineteen seventy two, our family 
  Made a visit to Yorba Linda
  to see the house we would be moving into. It 
  Was still a wood frame but would
  be completed soon. I recall being outside when 
  My brother Gary and Bob just met.
  We left that day and soon returned to stay, 
  Off the freeway and up over that big hill
  to a new place.  I was ten years old, starting again 
  In a place full of hills and kids.
  The Darcys were the first family we knew, way back 
  In nineteen seventy- two.
  First of all there was their dad, Ed Darcy was a very nice
  Man, voice a bit rough.
  but I was just a kid so I'll give him a break. I think back 
  To how nice he was, Inviting
  me to an Angel game. I was standing in my yard, they 
  were leaving and I was so excited
  when I was asked.  I'm not sure but I think he worked 
  For the airlines, Thank you, Mr. Darcy.
  There was their mother, Rose, always as nice as could be, 
  With what sounded like an accent.
  I remember going places with her in that light blue VW bus, 
  that was the color I still see
  She let me stay the night a few times, I remember you, 
  Rose Darcy, thanks for the memories.
  Genie, and I hope I spelled it right, was the oldest of four 
  children, I do recall her face and smile.
  But we didn't hang out as I was much younger, I 
  Remember, As you were a Darcy.
  I have many memories of Bob, He may be surprised, but I 
  Thought of him as an older brother.
  Do you remember your bed, where there was another bed, 
  You pulled out like a drawer?
  Bob played catch with me, from one side of the street 
  To the other, he threw that baseball.
  I can't believe he was fourteen and I was eleven, 
  he started me on a stamp collection that I
  loved year after year. I remember Bob jumping in our pool 
  when it was freezing, crazy!
  From nineteen seventy- two to seventy three, I knew this 
  family, it seemed like a long time.
  Thanks for being a friend, Bob, I think of you from a lifetime 
  ago, a dream, don't you know.
  Do you remember when Ken and you rescued a cat from 
  the sewer? so dirty were you.
  I may not spell their names correctly, but Paska and Zeebo 
  Were a mans' best friend.
  Hey! Bob, I watched you pitch down at the old little league 
   field, I was eleven and that was cool.
  Thanks so much Bob, for being you, I remember your voice, 
  And laughter too.
   Hello! Ken, you were twelve and thirteen too, at times you 
  appeared mean, older than me.
  You showed a smile and a glare, in your heart there was care, 
  You were funny and kind.
  Remember when Bob and you made candles in your garage? 
  melting the wax, using the dye.
  different bottles, or jars. I walked up and down the street, 
  selling door to door, tired feet.
  The Fourth of July and fireworks, do you recall as I do,
  walking or riding bikes  to the
  Firework stands? Summer heat, a coke, and a swim in the pool, 
  pool, those were the days.
  I remember you guys had homemade Ice cream one time, 
  to an old friend named Ken.
   Last but not least, was a little girl called Carolyn,  I don't 
   recall the name but she
   went to a school where there were animals, she was friends 
   with my sister, Kathy.
   I do remember you, Carolyn, you referred to your brothers 
  As Bobby and Kenny.
  I remember your smile, I remember you all from a lifetime ago. 
  nineteen seventy two,
  and seventy three. 

                Keith Garrett

                                A FACE THAT LIES


  The devil's eyes have a face that lies,


  It smiles at you with promises so fal


  Giving you gifts of sinful things,


  Changing your appearance, a picture of 
  greed and evil.

  It taunts you into believing that bad is good,


  Material belongings are most precious, love 
  Not kind.

  Stand and be recognized, a face that lies,


  Don't stare in the eyes, of what does not cry.


  Accept not a wish, not a gift from a demon spirit,


  Give not of yourself, in an instance he'll own 
  Your soul.

  A face that lies, has many by his side,


  They walk as you walk, do not be fooled, this is 
  No heavenly stroll to the sky.

                                      Keith Garrett

                     A FACE WITH TWO SIDES


  There's a part of you that hides, not known to me,



  This shadow that makes your Identity whole.



  It lets' me know, only that part of you, that opens' up,



  Missing Is a piece of emotion that shows' a picture.



   Missing Is a full and beautiful look from within,



  A smile sometimes cries but tries to hide what's real.



  Tell me who you are, tell me where you can be found,



   Let me love all of you, show me both sides.


                                Keith Garrett

      MYSTICAL DREAMS OF SHORES UNSEEN
   Keith Garrett
  About a land so far across the sea, stories of 
  Knights from days lost,
  Castles of stone, standing through centuries 
  Of tales told, those whom know.
  Kings and Queens, ever since this Island was 
  Discovered, back in a dream,
  Magical wizards are fables of men, said to 
  Them as a child long ago.
  Those dressed In armor, a King by the name of 
  Arthur and a sword,
  A legendary table of round, sat Knights so long 
  Ago, On shores unseen.
  Princes and princesses, dancing at parties of royalty, 
  In a far off land,
  Common men and women lived together, and 
  Begged for food, a hand,
  Woods of old England, warriors and Knights with 
  Bows and swords.
   Mystical dreams of times, of shores unseen, a book 
  Of tales,
  Along the River, lakes of swans gliding across the 
  Mirrored glass.
  Over the hills, where the whispering winds watch 
  the glass dance,
  In the English night sky, through the known expected 
  Fog of the land,
   A rising moon, shines Its glowing light upon the trees, 
  Upon these 
  With voices of sound,
  Sir lancelot dressed for battle, riding high upon a dark 
  Horse into forever.
  Dragons of fantasy flying through the sky, wings 
  Spread, soaring,
  Breath of fire, It Is told they possess, demons brought 
  To life in a dream.
  Legends of many moons long since past, ghosts of 
  Heroes wander in mist,
  Mystical dreams of shores unseen, songs sung In 
  Green meadows,
  A beautiful sound from voices such a long time ago.   

                          " SHE'S A DREAMER"


  She sits' under a clear, starry night, sky,




  Praying to the night, wishing, just wishing.




  Flowers' all around this beauty of the night,




  Long flowing hair, with a body so nice, she.




  She's a dreamer, alone, but peaceful, never lonely,




  She's a dreamer, happiness lives within this princess.


                               Keith Garrett  

                            PROMISES


  Blood of a man spills' from a wound created,


  From a wounded heart runs' blood unseen.


  Broken will be our spirits' by those we trust,


  These are the words' of men with no morality.


  Promises are made with the slip of a tongue,


  Easily spoken from minds' without thought.


  Hearts' and souls, those with no dreams',


  They take what they can, from their hands' they 
  Squeeze.

  Promises, promises, words' with no character,


  From those with no heart, broken, always broken.


                                 Keith Garrett 

                   " MASTER OF THE SKY"


  I see you from here, from where It Is that I 
  Stand, soaring,
  Wings spread far as you are the eyes In the sky, 
  Do you see,
  Yes! from these eyes down upon the world I do 
  See, watching,
  I soar with the wind, as In heaven I do soar with 
  All things.
  Are you the master of man, these questions 
  From my lips,
  Master of the sky, please tell this seeking man 
  Why we must die.
  The thoughts In your mind are known by me, 
  Listen to your beliefs,
  Why Is It you think you must die, In heaven I 
  Give you eternal life.
  I fear that death will take me, and I'll be forever 
  Lost, so alone,
  Although I believe, how Is It that this mortal man 
  might really know?
  Do you believe In heaven as the bible and lessons 
  Taught,                
  Do you believe In the lord and all that's been 
  Created?
  I do believe, I know that I'm a child of God, 
  created by mother and father,
  I know that you, master of the sky, will one day 
  Take me home to stay.
  Put away your doubts, let go of your pain and sorrow, 
  Give them to me,
  I am the master of the sky, creator of all that you 
  Know and more,
   Have faith fore It will comfort you, trust In me, be 
  At peace.
                                 Keith Garrett

                          MASTER OF THE GUITAR


  Hammer of the God's, like a wizard, black magic, 
  Possibly,

  An outfit he wears, decorated with dragons, and
  Snakes.

  Black attire, tassels hanging from that which he 
  Wears,

  Master of his guitar in hand, double neck, belongs 
  To him.

  Magician of musical sound, as he dances across 
  The stage

  From a legendary Led Zeppelin band, he is the 
  Great, Jimmy Page,

 Bow in hand, he strums to Dazed and confused, 
  Mystical tunes.

  Animated, with such a floor show, speed of his fingers,
  Go! Jimmy, go!

  Master of the guitar, magnificently he plays, from 
  England, The amazing Jimmy Page.
                               Keith Garrett

                           " MAN OF THE WOODS"


  Born quite a distance from civilized land, this man was,


  In this place, these surroundings of still and quiet, lives he.


  Immense sort of a man, bearded, with scraggly hair,


  Hunts for that which he eats, gun or knife In hand, has he.


  In weather hostile or friendly, he makes his way, survives,


  Cabin built of wood, Is where this loner dwells In silence.


  Content to be In this place without another soul for company,


  Whittling wood, or the harmonica played, Is a passion of a 
  Man alone.

  Fish that have been caught In a stream nearby, fried up for 
  Dinner,

  Eaten next to a fire that takes the chill from the night, as 
  He thinks.

  On the porch settles this soul, who exists In solitude, enjoying 
  the night,

  Not so complete without the puff of smoke, from his tobacco 
  Filled pipe.

  As he speaks goodnight to all around, all that lives, he's off to 
  Slumber,

  Who he Is matters' not, man of the woods, farewell.


                                         Keith Garrett