A NEW PARADISE


 I sit back and think of the possibility that we may start again,


 If not here then is there some other place of peace and happiness.


  In the beginning we hear about a garden, it disappeared from us,


 A new paradise where we can hear the birds sing without trouble on the horizon.


 Listen to the wind without the painful, tragic, sounds of sirens,


  A wonderful island, a new world where we are equal in every way.


   Money holds no meaning in this paradise home where not a soul walks alone,


Food so plenty, pains of hunger never again in this new paradise where all are friends. 


   Sickness no more, no worries of a cure that were learned about many years before,


 A place that sounds familiar, written in story books, a fantasy not believed,


  Believe in this as once such a place did exist, a lesson learned if so happens again.

              Keith Garrett

                                                                                  
                      A MINUTE FROM HEAVEN    


         I live a life that seems more than half way done,


         Started at a beginning, seen more than sun to sun.


           I've walked this land and had my share of pain,


      Friends whom have come and gone, love them just the same.


                          
              A  family through struggles and laughter, 


     Children grow up so fast, will they only remember my name.?


      I had my share of good, other things I've paid the price,


       All I ask of you dear lord is that you consider my fight.


           A minute from heaven is what we have each day,


 Step by step when the time has come, would you kindly show me the way.

       Keith Garrett

                                                                                   
                       THIS HOUSE


    Standing along a River bank within years of trees,


    This house so old has been for more than a century.


 It has a story, secrets that remain inside its stone walls,


      Built to withstand wars, survive the test of time.


 Windows there are of many, windows that eyes have looked through,


     Eyes that no longer see, lost in this house for eternity.


 There are rooms that can not speak fore if they could, horrible screams,


 Those whom have slept here never awaken from their peaceful dreams.


   This house is not haunted as none of the dead have ever stayed,


     It sits here quietly as all who have entered never go away.

                                 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

                                                                                
                   A WALK IN THE FOREST


 The time is now, Autumn is alive with a different feeling,


 Darkness is longer in the morning, slowly the leaves are upon the ground.


 Plants and trees grow slower, nature never gives up on the day,


 Animals are busy preparing as Winter is not far away, earlier the sun fades.


  A thought of a walk in the forest to escape for a moment, everything,


 Tall trees that cover much of the sunlight that warms the land we wander.


 Leaves that have piled for many years make a sound beneath these traveling feet,


 A walk in the forest, so many times I have dreamed of this while trapped elsewhere.


 Quiet, yet not quiet as there are sounds in a place as this like there are no other,


 A walk in the forest, a dream that I have not yet discovered, a reality discovered.

                               Keith Garrett

               ELLEN DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE


 I think of how she liked to run through the field of flowers,


  A smile so bright, as if not a care in her world, memories.


    We swam in the lake, laughing under the hot Summer sun,


 Walking to school on cool, Fall mornings, playing along the way.


    She went away, such a sad day as my friend went far away,


 I still see her running through that field with her smile so bright.


  If I listen on quiet nights I hear her splashing in the water, her laugh, 


   I walk to school in the morning wondering if she is by my side or near,


        I get tears because Ellen doesn't live here anymore.

                                  Keith Garrett

                                                                                           
                     WOUNDS OF TIME


                                                                        
           Innocence and pure, the new born child,



                                                                          
             ay by day what's taught and learned.



                                                                            
             With an eye that which is witnessed,



                                                                        
            An ear, sounds of many spoken thoughts.



     Physical pain, hurtful words that disable and change,



 Corruption and crime, nightmares of life that torment the mind.



                                                                          
             Like scars, lessons that make us strong,



                                                                    
            Wounds of time sometimes alter a clean mind.



       Can't is only a word, failure learned from weakness,



                                                                       
           Our minds and bodies see battles over time,



       Learn from them, survive, unkind are wounds of time.


                                                     Keith Garrett

                   WHAT MAKES A MAN CRY?


       Loss from his heart or a fear haunting Inside,


       Death of a friend or a love dying slowly, why?


       Loneliness created by a life of anger and pain,


         What makes a man cry, what makes a man cry.


          Whom will understand, who might know why,


     The things In the heart of a man that make him cry.
 

       Macho and tough are a disguise, only a facade,


          Two sides of emotion, a real man can cry.


      The wanting and care from a woman who knows tears,


          What makes a man cry, the hurt In her eyes.


          What makes a man cry, she who says goodbye.


                                                                     
          Keith Garrett 

                          PAINTED CLOUDS

       I walk the morning, the air has a chill and a breeze,


   Out In the distance, above the hills they float like balloons.


             Shapes or sizes and colors of difference,


            Splashed across the sky are painted clouds.


             Vanish, they go away for a moment In time,


                Reinvented, shaped from heaven above.


                 Pastel colors appeared In my sight,


          Rays of light from the sun trying to peak through.


           An Invisible smile, a memory of a face sketched,


       Forever In my mind, eyes of beauty, a voice that echoes


                        Through the clouds.


                                                                                                
              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