" THEY WERE DIFFERENT"


 He walked down the street full of laughter 
 And fun,

 He was poor with no money but no worries had he.


 She was from a different world, of money and 
 Material things,

 A young woman with everything but she had nothing.


 He was free with dreams' that were possibly only
 Dreams,

 What he wanted was only to be, what he wanted was she.


 She was art, dance, and culture passed on by a family,


 What she wanted was to be set free, treasure was 
 Not just money.

 He appeared as a man whose clothing meant he had 
 No worth,

 But what Is the worth of a well dressed man with 
 No integrity.

 They were different she and he, drawn together 
 By feelings,

 The heart, the eyes, the touch of man to woman and 
 Woman to man.

 They were different but they were the same, walking 
 Hand in hand,

 With what's love and pain.


                                                                                                           
          Keith Garrett

            DO YOU KNOW THESE PEOPLE?


 They are shadows of friends' long since gone,


 They are men and women, friendly or not, they are,


 They stand there co- workers', strangers' not 
 Yet known.

 Husbands' wives, boyfriends' or girlfriends' 
 Past and present,

 A chance there's a brother, sister missed for some 
 Time.

 Ghosts' from memories of a long time ago, friend or 
 Foe,

 A mother or father, one for awhile missed, the other 
 Forever,

 Once stood where you could see, now shadows In eternity.


 Do you know these people, can you recognize their 
 Faces,

 From different times and different places.


                      Keith Garrett                       

                         PLAYGROUND

                         IN MY MIND


 There are times I like to escape from here,


 Away from all this mess handed out from life.


 Through my dreams' and Imagination there's a 
 Place to go,

 A fantasy created by myself that only I hold.


 Come with me on a journey Inside,


 To my playground built for me, a place I can hide.


 In my mind I keep out that of which I choose,


 Letting In only wishes of my perfect reality.


 There's a land of which I've come to find,


 It's a secret place, a playground In my mind.


                         Keith Garrett                 

                     FACES OF CLOWNS'


 Disguises are worn, they hide a world of fear,


 Hidden with colors' of false smiles or frozen 
 Frowns.

 We laugh and we dance, juggle our thoughts' and
 Emotions,

 Our world Is a cage, a circus of freaks' and 
 Entertainment.

 We challenge our own mortality, on a high wire 
 We dance,

 Shot through a cannon to where we may land,
 Life in hand.

 Faces of clowns', dressed In costumes, they 
 seem secure,

 Acts put on for children, are they not the young 
 Whom have tears?

 We dress In our own costumes, put on a face that 
 We choose,

 Is what appears' real only a magicians' magic, a trick 
 Of sorts?

 Whatever expression we wear, whatever makeup we're 
 Made of,

 Faces of clowns', we all live with faces of clowns'.


               Keith Garrett                                                        

                  THE HONEYMOONERS


 Ralph Kramden, pins and needles, needles and pins, 
 It's a happy man who grins

 Did Ralph ever really grin, a bus driver cranky enough.


 Schemes and ideas, nothing ever worked out, always
 A shout,

 Always a general in his fantasy world, did Alice 
 Ever win?

 "Bang! zoom! to the moon with you" Alice giving him 
 The look,

 She the faithful wife of this man always with a plan.


 "Hey there Ralphie boy" says his goofy pal, Ed Norton,


 Ralph is always irritated with Norton, loveable Ed.


 A cranky bus driver and a happy, wacky sewer worker,


 Two wives whom take care of the home and their nutty 
 Husbands,

 The honeymooners, with the stars of four, gone forever.

            Keith Garrett

                MANY FEELINGS' OF SPRING


 As slowly the days' get longer and the cold 
 Travels away,

 A change of seasons' comes Into our day.


 Out comes the sun as earlier It shines,


 The blooming of flowers enters our minds.


 No more frost or the freezing of night,


 The song of the birds, a tune that Is nice.


 The shadows appear but much later In the day,


 Darkness does not visit, away longer It stays.


 On the trees and shrubs, new growth will appear,


 It's time to awake fore Springtime Is here.


 On the mountains, the snow melts Into water 
 Running down,

 Wild life returns, we hear many a sound.

 Look around to what this time brings,

 The things that we see, tell us this Is Spring.

                 Keith Garrett

                        WATCHER OF THE SEA


  High above the water, overlooking the ocean,



 Built above the rocks standing tall under the sky.



 With Its' eyes of light so bright watching 
 For those,


 Guiding who might approach these shores, looking.



 For so many years It sees, watches, and waits,



 As from across the horizon travelers make their way.



 Watcher of the sea keeping your eye on what Is 
 All around thee,


 Whether the light of day or the dark of night, 
 You watch.
 

 Trusted by many are you, counted on for safety,


 You are the watcher of the sea, lonely as It may be.

                      Keith Garrett

                                                          UNSEEN



I'm all around, sometimes I'll go away,

 In the morning a visit, maybe at the end of 
 Your day.



 I've been known to whisper or at times a scream,


 I push through the trees, perhaps awake you
 From a dream.

 I may go very fast or swirl around,




  Everywhere Is where I am bound.



 Since the beginning of time, from then I was born,



 Always will I be here with an unseen form.


                  Keith Garrett

                                                                                          IN MY DREAMS

 Asleep in the night, I was talking on the phone,


 My conversation switched from brother, voice 
 Of mother,

 In my dreams that familiar cough heard as she 
 Did speak.

 Angry was her tone, just a blur as a dream is 
 Only a dream,

 A computer disguised as a television, appears 
 As a game.

 Pieces surround like a chemistry lab, my mother 
 On the screen,

 In my dreams she is as a professor with bright, 
 White hair.

 A mystery it is about dreams and what they may 
 Tell you,

 In my dreams she may exist from time to time, in 
 My mind.

 The reality of it all is that mom has gone away, 
 She did not stay,

 We hold her in our hearts and pray for her 
 in a heavenly place.
                        Keith Garrett