A CHAMPION YOU ARE


 You tee off at dawn with club in hand,


 Swinging for your target, you take your stand.


                                                                                      
 Giving up is not what you do,


 Eighteen holes, whatever it takes to make it through.


 Walking the course no matter how tired,


 Strength and fight are in you to win this match.


 On to another day, one more tee off,


 Again swinging that club till the end.


 Every sunset under par,  Always a champion you are.

                 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

                       MEMORIAL DAY


 When we think of Memorial day, what is it to us,


 Is it the looked forward to barbecues with friends.


 Maybe the beach and lying in the sun,


 Going to the park with our children, relaxing.


 Is it watching movies, drinking cold beer for the day,


 Going away camping, forgetting the troubles in our way.


 My father traveled the oceans, sailed the seven seas,


 A navy man in the Korean war, his journal tells me


 Of all the places, lands where he would be.


 I hold in my possession the poetry he wrote on a ship 
 In a time of war,


 The things I have to remember him by are not just 
 In a wooden box, they are stored in my heart.
                   

 When the sound of planes, jets, or what flies on 
 Memorial Day,

 Listen carefully, for the ones you love, miss, or lost, 
 Think of them today.

 For those who are lost, missing, who gave their lives 
 For what they believed,

 Pray for all of them, the thousands of  family members 
 Who rest together.

                            IN HEAVEN
                                                                                                           Keith Garrett

                    A MAN WITH AN AX

 Wood needs to be chopped, it sits waiting, many 
 Types and sizes,

 Fall is in the air, chillier the air turns, work 
 Must be done.

 A job it is to chop enough wood to warm a home for 
 the Winter,
 Must be done, perhaps no fun as it is an accomplishment 
 To be proud.

 Stack it in a pile, carry it piece by piece, chopped and 
 Split wood for a fire,

 A smell, can you take it in, smell the aroma as it's cut, 
 Stronger it grows.

 A man with an ax gets this job done, he sweats from  
 Morning till the setting sun,

 Swinging an ax, working as the cold moves closer,


 The wood pile will rise higher.


 A man with an ax is strong and determined,


 He will succeed because he knows of its need,


 When it's done, a Winter of warmth,


 When the setting sun, he knows the job is done. 

                              Keith Garrett

                    "WITHIN THE FOG"


 Trees standing, trees empty and alone,


 Mountains' cold, high above below.


 All around, within the fog life stands' still,


 A layer of white, floating, hovering so low.


 Within the fog, a world hidden from the light,


 Vanishes, disappears' as the suns' warmth overpowers.


 Beauty and life lie beneath, within the fog.


                           Keith Garrett                                

            IF I COULD STAND ON THE MOON


 From up so high beyond what Is sky, what
 I might see,

 Below motionless oceans, a creation of what 
 Was dreamed.

 The universe from all around, before these 
 Amazed eyes,

 From where I stand the earth could sit In my hand,
 Visualized.

 If I could stand on the moon then the stars I 
 Might touch,

 A comet speeding on by, a ride on It perhaps In 
 My mind.

 Darkness stays here with me as I am In a far off land,


 What lives up here all dances In rhythm like a 
 Quiet song.


 Run I could not but float like a balloon would 
 Be this man,

 If I could stand on the moon then I would be on 
 top of the world.

                      Keith Garrett

                        "FOLLOW ME"

 To everywhere I start from here, where I stand 
 I'll leave behind,

 Watch my steps and join with me, I'll walk from here 
 And travel far.
 I'll travel by bicycle across the land, across the 
 Open road,
 Around the world, around the world, follow me so 
 Very far.
 In a driven car from here to there, Into the sun 
 I'll make it there,
 Follow me as I wander through country of never ending 
 Horizon.
 The sounding whistle of a rumbling train catches my eye,

 Take my hand and jump Into a boxcar, ride, we will ride.

 Across the hills, over the bridge, and through tunnels 
 Of darkness,
 Faster we move to where It Is we travel, follow me, 
 follow me.
 I am the captain, I will be your guide as we journey 
 Under God's sky,
 Soon we must part from this locomotive driven by the man 
 Who cries.
 Down a grassy slope we walk many miles with the wind 
 At our backs,
 In the distance It sits, a giant balloon waiting under 
 The stars of the night.
 Follow me, tired as we make our way through the trees,
 Into a dream,
 It stands so high as we board It climbing up, up beyond 
 The clouds.
 Drift with me Into the wind and hang on to my arm as 
 We vanish,
 This Is the best of life, down, down we fall slowly 
 To the ground.
 Now take my hand and get ready as we begin a flight 
 Through the night,
 Fly with me above the world, hold on tight, we are 
 In heaven tonight.
 This journey takes us on a beautiful boat dancing on the 
 Sea, follow me,
 Around the world follow me, an adventure for two, not 
 Many will ever see.
                                                                                           Keith Garrett

                    WHEN YOU'RE ALONE

 From your window at home, In the night sky 
 Do you see,

 The stars that shine bright from heaven down 
 To thee.

 Do you Imagine life In a beautiful place, can 
 You see,

 Can you hear what's awake, creatures of the night?


 Do memories fill your pretty head with what Is 
 Now gone,

 A ghost walks your home from here until dawn.


 When you're working In your garden do you look around,


 Do you remember me when I once walked the grounds.


 Is there a song or a thought that sits In that heart,


 When you're alone do you ever think of me, do you feel.


 When you're alone then I am there, listen for my voice,


 When you're alone, I am everywhere.


                                                                                          Keith Garrett

                                                                                                                    
                   A BIG HEART



                                                                                           
 He was a small man but only in height,


 He would lose his wife as a child was born.


                                                                                                 
 Lou was his name, a man so kind,


 Trying to survive, taking care of his daughter.


 A job was needed, treated like some kind of freak,


 Turned away, desperate, he would steal for a meal.


 This is not who he was, why are people so ignorant 
 And mean,

 Confined to jail by one who did not care, a much 
 Needed favor.

 A daughter in danger, this little man with a big 
 Heart was needed,

 Risk his life he would, even for those who did look 
 Down upon.

 A big heart in a man who did appear to stand taller 
 Than all.

                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