It’s been many seasons since a pen in hand has written a first,

A poem about dark times, running from everything horrible.

Today maybe a fantasy poem or something about a dream,

In between the world i have seen, traveled within my mind.

Hear from me all the great and wonderful places i have been,

Listen as i also tell you of sadness and hiding from the world.

I’ve been to the moon, seen the universe from a different view,

Climbed the top of mountains, across the ocean to many lands.

From a long time ago, i have traveled to places of farms and the old

I’ve seen monsters, things of legends and scary stories told.

Sleigh rides through the snow, to the north pole i have flown,

I have seen the boss on stage singing songs of my choice and desire.

I have been everywhere and seen everything, i have traveled with the wind,

I have ridden with cowboys across the open range, another time and place.

Free to be, many poems written in a world that only i can only see.

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 grass 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 shores.

Seasons of many centuries witnessed by a people 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.

Keith Garrett

You can find him, if you go far off into these hills,

Way back beyond the green grass and rocky slopes.

Oak trees of many years hide what has been here for awhile,

Come closer so you can observe this shack built ages ago.

Once it may have been of fine wood as today it is withering away,

A home with no plumbing, no modern conveniences of the day,

The roof is worn, dried out from many days and nights of being here.

There lives in this shack a man, not a youthful man by any means,

Left in peace to live out his remaining days is this man in the shack.

We don’t know where he comes from or if he’s had a family, a wife, kids,

We do know that he’s had a life, this man in the shack has his story.

Keith Garrett

Nobody believed he would survive as he lay there dying inside,

This young boy of twelve shot by an evil man with no heart.

A father with a faith so strong would never give up on a son,

His family, friends, and a town were concerned about his behavior.

He took his son to a wide open field of green grass where he might heal,

Set up camp and began to pray while his son lay motionless, staring.

He would build an altar of stone with a cross placed upon the top,

Seen for miles by travelers, talk of this altar and father would also spread.

Night was falling, the sun setting, supper was ready, and a visitor would show,

An old man with a cane would ask, let me try as the boy would not take broth.

The old man asked, if he is not saved will you lose your faith,? No said the father,

The old man went behind the altar, the father followed and the old man was gone.

Nothing but distance all around, where could he have gone, the father believed,

The father now wore a beard as the next night a storm was forming, this be the night.

The old man appeared in the dark and told the father, go to the altar! now!,

Lightening struck the altar and the father fell to the ground, the night was done.

When morning came and the sun rose in the sky his family was there wonering,

The father stepped from behind the altar, a true miracle as did his son with life.

Keith Garrett

Where have i seen you, have i seen you before, how is it i know you,

Do you recognize this forever searching man as he seeks the path.?

I’ve strayed away from where it is i belong, not as lost as before,

Show me the kind hearted one who will walk with me as i search.

I’ve discovered and I’ve lost but throught it all much has been gained,

The miracle i have sought has not been for me granted at this time.

But perhaps a gift not chosen is the right and chosen gift handed to me,

Prayed have i for peace, happiness, and love, i watched for it day and night.

Do i not listen and am i possibly a bit clouded in these eyes of mine,

Are these things of want circling me always as my heart is closed.?

I’ve taken a step back from those whom may show care and concern,

I’m unsure and confused of which are friend or foe, how will i know.?

Some of those whom mean the most to me are not here, do not appear,

I am here, sometimes a little bit lonely, i await a soul who might care.

Keith Garrett

On the porch she sits, telling us stories from her life,

Times and places of difference, tales from long ago.

She likes to knit watching life go on around her everyday,

Playing games with the children, watching a show, baking.

She does not walk the same, as once when she was a younger lady,

Eyes that do not see the same wear glasses that make scenes clear.

Hair of a color so different from the dark, flowing that once was,

Aches and pains from a lifetime of once energy and much play.

Grandmother, you were once a young girl just like me, a picture i see,

You have had such a life from many stories sitting on the porch, told to me.

You are grandmother, one day i shall be like you, telling stories of my own life,

Different times, I will age and have had a life, I will be one day grandmother.

Keith Garrett

From sunrise until sunset pictures sit and stand everywhere,

Words are seen from our minds that form beautiful description.

A painting seen each day from different views, always changing,

The sun shining in morning light, glow from a changing moon in the night.

The stars shining far up high, on a clear, still, Fall night,

Mountains that have stood throughout time, they change as we change.

A boat ride across a lake on a warm, Summer night, something to write,

When Winter visits, a sleigh ride through the snow, through the trees we go.

To stand on the wet sandy shore staring out at the ocean is of pleasure more,

From the waterfalls to rivers, deserts or forests, pages of stories told with a pen.

The world be a poem, if never written then never be it told, write it before it’s gone.

Keith Garrett

Awake did i lying on the shore, soaked were my clothes,

Under the morning sun, waves crashing on the sand.

I think to myself about the last nights storm, i survived,

Unless this is a beautiful island heaven, I am alive!

Dry off in the sun, time to think and plan before this day is done,

I’ll find a spot to rest and sleep, what to eat, catch a fish, fruit possibly.

I need to keep a cool head as i might not be rescued soon, maybe not at all,

How am i blessed in my all alone mess, I’m alive! I could have died.

I can bathe, swim, find some wood, a fire is not an impossible task,

No crime or sin, Not a siren or noise that brings pain to an ear.

Not a threat against me except that of man against nature,

I can call this place hell or home depending on my outlook.

Quiet nights and peaceful days, walks along the shore okay,

Washed up on the shore, god is with me, judged no more.

Keith Garrett

Cobwebs and tumbleweeds, traces of life and the past,

A forgotten road not so often traveled, not anymore.

Where do they go, the ones we once knew and walked with,

More and more they become ghosts, faded faces from yesterday.

Time slips away slowly into my tomorrow where my memories are found,

Friends are now strangers, strangers are now my friends.

There once lived a woman whom i did not know. she lived her life without me,

In her there was not a thought of me, for me she had no meaning.

This stranger that i had not met would someday be the love a man could not forget,

Like the wind forever blowing, she has drifted, a stranger i never knew.

Where did you go! where did you go! a stranger i love, a woman i’ll never know.

Keith Garrett

Hatred, sickness plots against our homeland, they’re coming,

They’re here in this land, they don’t hide as their faces are seen.

Work with you they do, maybe a smile as they pass you by,

As good people they come in from all sides, they don’t have to sneak.

They step from planes with passports and go about their day,

Cruise do these monsters with no morals on ships, welcome to our home.

We have darkness from sea to shining sea, borders are without safety,

They come from there just as they are over there from here, grow with fear.

A flag they plan to replace with a flag that waves for over two hundred years,

Their message is clear, they say it with the murders of our people, we don’t care.

As they become stronger with power and weapons we sit and wonder but it’s real,

What’s really going on, can we trust anybody anywhere, we hope, don’t think so.

Darkness in America is growing fast, you can see it as the sun shines bright,

Pray that a day does not come when our children need to carry a gun in their hand.

Keith Garrett