GHOSTS CAN TALK

Most of this world never truly believe that life ends not here,

Death may not be a misery that we all wait to endure.

We are surrounded if indeed you do not believe in this,

There are those and many long ago spirits which wander alone.

Most of us are not enough in thought or listening to hear ghosts talk,

Heaven is there but why are they everywhere? Ghosts can talk, they walk.

We want to believe that we are never ending, fear that we are not forever,

Odd things happen, strange sounds in the night, misplaced or lost items,

They speak in ways we can not ever dream, watch us as we slumber in the night.

GHOSTS CAN TALK

Keith Garrett

GLORY OF HEAVEN

Lord, thank you for this life, the gift you have given,

I picture you on your beautiful throne, watching what has been.

There Is much beauty created throughout this mysterious world,

You are God, creator of everything and all that we dream, see me, Lord.

I think of you as I hope for life to continue on as I am not finished yet,

Thankful to have seen this land which you have dreamed In only days.

Such a masterpiece with time limited as the glory of Heaven forever to be,

Landscapes of perfection never ending, hills of green grass blowing in the wind,

Blue skies and nature live for eternity, The glory of Heaven exists not only In our minds.

Keith Garrett

WE’RE NOT HERE ANYMORE

I remember when we were us, you there and I here,

We spoke, laughed, and spent time together in a home.

You and I are not alone, just not together anymore,

We got lost traveling down two quiet roads, it’s not over.

There was a time when smiles met in the morning,

Now our smiles are seen by strangers who do not care.

Our faces remain the same but we both see a different person,

The house Is now crowded with unhappy feelings net mentioned,

We’re not here anymore, when we left, who closed the door?

Keith Garrett

PHOTO ALBUM,

Open it up, only empty pages are before you,

One by one, we add a picture, a scene from time,

Frozen within pages of a book, hidden with each turn.

It can not hold all that we see, not enough room for our history,

A photo album to pass along, share memories of life and family.

Not a movie, piece by piece, a glimpse of an adventure of life,

Turn the pages and find that with the passing time a book filled.

We become frozen in time, memories that we leave behind,

Expressions shared in pictures, we close the book on a simple time.

Keith Garrett

WHY CAN’T WHAT I LOVE MEAN SOMETHING

Do you ever feel that people bring you down when you speak?

Talk of your dreams, your wants, whom you wish to be.

I find that not many care about what I do or loves of mine,

They’re not any less of worth, precious always in my mind.

What I love means so much to me, others unkind or blind,

Why can’t what I love mean something, others don’t love what is mine.

Keith Garrett

A DAY WITHOUT SYMPATHY
I awoke in the morning, I fell out of bed,

A bad headache but no aspirin for my head.

I went for a cup of coffee but only an empty jar,

Maybe some toast but the butter was at the store.

I went to get the paper in a puddle of mud,

The dog chewed up my shoes, what am I to do.

Got dressed and headed for the car, off to work I’ll go,

The car wasn’t there, stolen wouldn’t you know.

Went to call the police, locked myself out of the house,

Headed for the bus stop, watched the bus drive on by.

I flagged down a cab, please get me to work,

No wallet in my pocket, I gave him my watch.

I walked through the door, fearing I was so late,

This is your day off, you don’t work today.

No way home so I put out my thumb,

No one would stop, I walked all the way.

I had not a key, Oh! what a day,

I broke the window, the door was open all the way.

My T.V. was gone, the phone did not work,

Nothing to eat, time for some sleep.

I went to my room, the bed was gone,

A day without sympathy, on the floor I did lay.

Keith Garrett

GREEK GOD OF THE SKY

It rests way up high, giant in the dark of night,

So far away, when was it formed, millions of years from today?

Beyond the stars, spinning in outer space, thirteen rings around its face,

Father of the sky, seventh planet from the sun, will you ever perish and go away?

You go by a name known to all from the beginning of man, Uranus be your name,

Quite strange as you spin forever tilted on your side, a collision be the reason why.

You orbit with others of names which have been formed so many human lifetimes ago,

Beyond the Earth, space is a place of much mystery just as you hold a mystery of your own.

Keith Garrett

BILLY MITCHELL

Today in my mind but yesterday was a long time ago,

I think of you, a place and a school, I was a little boy.

It was nineteen sixty seven, Kindergarten and you,

The first day of school is recalled in my mind, a boy I saw cry,

His name Was Cotero, I think of those clowns on a wall.

Are they still there? I wonder, swingsets and young friends,

A boy named Grover, Duck, Duck, goose, Graham crackers and milk.

Naptime, I remember the cabinets with cartoonish pictures,

Reading time was the best, Foldout books, three dimensional stories,

Hansel and Gretel, all the best, I was there until nineteen seventy.

Hard to remember the teachers’ names, Mrs. Scott back in second grade,

I think it was Mr. Kelly, Principal with dark hair and glasses,

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt was a song in the Cafeteria.

After school and on the weekends you could play games,

Carroms, maze, and more, Billy Mitchell, when once I was a child.

Friends, Jeff, James, Jimmy, and Alan, wherever they are, I remember,

There was a bell back then known as the freeze bell, stand very still.

We all have our childhood, our memories, a town to call home, then we roam,

Billy Mitchell, I find myself wandering back to you, memories of a school.

Keith Garrett

A LIST OF THINGS TO BE

Never an astronaut, dancing slowly upon the moon,

Flying in a jet across the sky, no, not did I ever fly.

A football star throwing the ball far, a dream that won’t be,

Under the lights, a victory on a Superbowl night.

What is it like to be a movie star pretending to be many things,

Known everywhere, this is not what I was born to be.

An Olympic star, a racer of cars, I wanted to be but that’s not me,

A great writer, a hero of sort would be something I might be.

A rescuer of the down and out, a conqueror of homelessness,

I may not be an Einstein of genius, I am good enough for me,

A list of things to be, how much can one man need?

Keith Garrett

A HORSE CALLED STORM

Jet black, tall and strong, he stands in the morning light,

Out in the grassland roams this free spirit.

Never ridden, not a man calls him theirs,

Answers to not a soul do this horse left alone.

His name is storm, dark as the night,

Moves like lightning, sounds like thunder.

Fierce and at times mean is this beast,

Untamed by man, natural and free.

He is friends with each day, land where he runs,

A horse called storm standing in the sun.

Keith Garrett