Woke up this morning, dark starts my day,

Got out of bed, freezing all around.

Went to the kitchen as i always do,

A cup of coffee, thoughts of the day.

Turned on the television, time for the weather,

Time to get dressed, i put on some shorts.

No matter the season, it’s the way that i am,

A sweat shirt and jacket, soon time to leave.

A knee brace to walk, on go my shoes and socks,

To warm the morning, a fireplace of wood.

The sun is rising but it’s still cold and frosty,

Feed the birds and squirrels too.

I say a goodbye, headphones ready to go,

Out the door, i’ll be back home tonight don’t you know.

Tis’ a new morning, Winter is here,

Thanks for spending the morning with me,

I best be on my way.

Keith Garrett

MYTHICAL TALES

Castles of knights so long ago, a far off land, a sword in a stone,

Dragons that fly across the sky, fire they breathe, burns the night.

Wizards dressed in robes of black, stars and moons on their backs,

Spells from a book, potions brewed up special in a pot of fire so black.

Sorcerer’s that cast upon the land an evil presence of giants so bad,

Legends of stories told from times of so old, kings and queens, guillotines.

Mythical tales and magical scenes only dreamed from minds of fairy tale stories,

Possibly, Imaginations so real that just maybe once upon a time in another world.

Mythical tales from generation to generation, a place of old England,

Were there things once so real turned to tales and not believed again.

Keith Garrett

Keith Garrett
In our minds do they live, exist only in our dreams,

Gaze out into the night, beyond the stars in the dark.

Remember as a child you would put a tooth under your pillow,

As you slept a fairy would visit and replace it with riches.

Mother nature we do not see as a mortal but live within her,

She is known by all with the changing seasons of time.

As you drift off into slumber it is he whom watches over,

A man whom possesses a dreaming sand for a believer.

Grants does he the gift of love so fine from an arrow,

Only Imagine this ghost fore he is forever cupid.

He’s as old as the universe, he’s of the beginning,

He knows of life, the name is father time.

A cold sort of spirit, he exists from a myth,

When the freeze of night comes, lives does Jack Frost.

Eggs in a basket, colored and decorated for a child,

Jelly beans and treats from an Easter bunny not seen.

Last but not least, a jolly old man with a beard so white,

He gives to the world on Christmas eve, Santa Claus.

Not to climb the highest mountain but too climb many mountains as high as you can,

To win the marathon not as important as too finish many.

To sail around the world is great, too sail to places of dreams greater,

It’s not to sing the best song ever written but too write many good songs.

To work one hard day in your life is no accomplishment,

Too work hard everyday and give it your all is of greatness.

If to you having many friends is the greatest,

Then having one great friend is of value like no other.

If you can touch the world with many beautiful poems then that is beauty,

To hold onto only one of importance holds no treasure.

If you are of morality, if your word means something and your hand shake is strong

Then you are successful, if you are not a quitter and hold your head high.

The measure of success holds a different meaning for all people.

Keith Garrett

Far, far, I’ve made it so far I’ve walked lost roads,

I’ve walked up hills and found they were mountains.

Went to the top, looked over the side and saw there was no bottom,

My heart has been touched then removed from within.

I’ve been told of care, shown it’s no longer there,

Said to me that i am the one, words are cheap, what to believe.

I’ve walked lost roads and found my way to where i go,

I’ve walked up hills, climbed mountains, and found the bottom.

My heart has been touched and removed but i got it back,

I’ve been told of care, shown it’s no longer there, others care.

It’s been said to me that i’m the one, now it’s done,

Words are cheap, I believe one day someone will show me.

Keith Garrett

You would not know me, my face, my name a mystery,

The voice that becomes a stranger to you would not be known.

Pass me by without a thought, no emotion or care, a stare,

There would for you be no memory of me, no late night dream.

If i wasn’t me would you wish to see, hear, or smile at me,

Would you be in want of a kiss without pain, a touch with no scare.?

Would a second thought be a possibility if i was a different me,

If i wasn’t me would you not forget me, would i still be a something.

Keith Garrett

A different era, nineteenth century woman, what does she see,

On a trip far away, she’ll travel across a country never before seen.

On a locomotive made of steel, roaring and whistling down the track,

A window seat will be the perfect spot for this adventure to a new land.

The things she would see along the way would be wonderful and a bit scary,

Across the land of wilderness, what’s out there, an Indian village at peace.

Wagon trains of travelers headed for that land of hope where they might prosper,

She sees towns that once were, slowly died and moved on to where life again was.

Passed by towns that were booming with life, men and women seeking their fortune,

She passed by towns where familes worked the land, came together during hard times.

So much did she see, this woman from another century, she traveled a train.

Keith Garrett

THIS MOUNTAIN I MUST CLIMB

From out of the dark, now stepping into the light,

To leave this hiding place of seclusion to find where i’m suppose to be.

Seems like a long way up, back to that place of peace,

At this moment down in the valley of no life, no sanity.

No ladder, nor a rope with which to climb back to the top,

Just my hands and feet will get me through, get me up there.

The will is in me, yes! i must persevere, stop i will not do,

Obstacles are part of my dilemma but a solution figured.

Push forward, move ahead, and keep on going although

Pain and fatigue try to be the conquerer.

Defeat will not be heard of, it is not an option,

This mountain i must climb, then on with my life go i.

Keith Garrett

There was a time when you were a child, remember when,

Children playing simple games back in a world of wishes and magic.

A bottle, do you recall that magic bottle from where bubbles appeared,

Close your eyes and blow through that circle of dreams, watch their form.

Bubbles, see the colors inside, small and big are they as you see them float,

Away they go to somewhere, disappearing with the wind, vanished bubbles.

As a child it is and was such a creative, wonderful, experience of magic,

Did you believe, try to see that each one had a different gift to be held.

Blowing in the wind were dreams, wishes, possible things, everything,

Magic bubbles, once upon a time in a childs dreaming eyes.

Keith Garrett

We chase, search out and run as fast as we can,

While we sleep the greatest things can happen,

Run do we very fast, jump so very high to touch the sky,

Jump on the roof top, flips in the air, slow motion if you please.

Always for me money floating down a stream, a pile in the street,

Just as it is grabbed by my hand disappears does it as i become awake.

We all have been there when a monster chases us and then we are elsewhere,

Dreams are always so mixed up, at times tiring as we are in places of mystery.

Floating in the air, suddenly in a bubble we drift onward to where nothing makes sense,

Catch a dream, hold on tight and bring it back home with you tonight, any night.

Catch a dream, dream to be all that you hope to be, dream the perfect scene.

Keith Garrett