WINDOW UPSTAIRS

There is a lake that shimmers under the sun,

Shadows beneath tall, swaying trees that breathe.

Birds fly high in the sky, sunrise on a cool, fall morning,

Beyond are hills of green that rest always in all seasons.

There is life that can not be seen as it carries on each day,

The wind visits at different moments, can be seen with what it touches.

There is a window upstairs where I watch all that comes into view,

The scenery changes each day, some things never go away.

Keith Garrett

WHAT MY EYES SEE

My eyes see differently than once a child did see,

Reality of all that’s around, a world of recognized sounds.

What my eyes see are not the coloring books and cartoons,

Not the exploring of our neighborhood and childish ways.

Not the magical world from a young boy’s eyes lost with time,

What my eyes see are a different kind of beauty and some Insanity.

This world has changed along with the changes in me,

What my eyes see are so many things that I never dreamed.

Keith Garrett

IN A WESTERN TOWN

Walk these streets, sidewalks of wood,

Where men wear boots, hats, and guns.

Women wear dresses of an earlier time,

Some of morals, others workmen for a dime.

A sheriff, a deputy, to keep peace and order,

Jail is for those who can’t follow the law.

A schoolhouse, a church, places of good,

Children learn lessons, a house of God.

A saloon is a place of drink and games,

A piano heard, upstairs, women of the night.

In a western town, there are many things,

A stable for horses, a gunfight to end one’s day,

Once upon a time in a western town.

Keith Garrett

THE FIRE HAS EYES

It crawls across the land with an anger, a vengeance,

It Is she who consumes me, burns my soul.

At times so hot that there’s pain from a distance,

My soul Is on fire with that which Is a woman.

Such an anger Is possessed by energy brought to life,

She can be warm and friendly or danger In the night.

Destroy all that’s In Its path, no conscience, no remorse,

The fire has eyes, It follows a chosen trail, It shows what hurts.

the glow of Its light Is an amazing and beautiful sight,

Reaches to the sky, touches all that’s within Its flight.

The fire has eyes, searching for that which gives It life,

She Is noticed from a heart that beats heated from Inside.

Keith Garrett

THE FACES WE WEAR

Take a look once in a while, slow down, stare into their faces,

Do you wonder If they see your look on a certain day, are you okay?

I’m not talking about the way you frown or the smile that’s loud,

I’m talking about the reality when you turn back around.

I’ve seen what walks in front of me, I’ve seen you but I’ve seen me,

We wear faces of today, we wear also our faces of shame.

The faces we wear are a collection of a lifetime of love and pain,

What we have lost, beautiful things we have gained.

Keith Garrett

STORIES ARE TOLD

Traditions of storytelling from thousands of years,

Around campfires and in homes in times of old.

Thought up from Imaginations or a small tale that grows,

Fables told by a Grandfather to a child in countries of old.

A bedtime adventure from a book to send you off to dream,

Around the world, many have listened, stories across the sea.

Stories are told that touch one’s soul,” listen child” they never grow too old,

Generation to Generation, within cultures of different beliefs, a tale that speaks.

Keith Garrett

ONE MORE DAY

Am I dreaming, selfish to expect or assume another chance,

A breath, watching the sunrise to a brand new day, see and be.

Why do I believe that my time is forever, but what may forever contain,

Is forever now, another moment, another day is so much to ask for.

One more day has been for so long a fantasy guaranteed, a child believed,

A long life is a miracle fore God gives us moment by moment as he sees.

We live one piece at a time, a puzzle with a number that tells of our life scenes,

One day at a time, to see the sunshine after a new morning light is a beautiful sight.

Love and cry under another evening, Summer sky, one more day not to say goodbye,

So many wonderful treasures and pleasures that have to be left behind, seems unkind.

One more day to play in the sand, listen to that favorite song walking hand in hand,

One more day to understand that we have only a limited time to be woman and man.

Keith Garrett

KEYS TO THE KINGDOM

For whatever it’s worth you came out on top,

Power in the hands of the right and wrong is scary.

You are human but who are you really behind those eyes,

Through the years, from any shore, leaders are seen with fear and war.

Behind guarded doors of a house, Palaces and castles on foreign soil,

Keys to the Kingdom are held by those with or without morals.

There are battles fought to hold onto or gain possession of many keys,

Keys to secret places, vaults, and of course, keys to the end of the world,

Some keys should be destroyed, taken from them who misuse keys to the Kingdom.

Keith Garrett

JUST PASSING THROUGH

A man searching for something, always searching,

He travels through the desert, a town in his sight.

On a horse he rides, the sun upon his back,

Dressed in western clothing of the time.

What he wants is a bed for the night,

A warm meal that satisfies, a bath much needed.

He heads for the saloon, a drink in his thoughts,

Sit down for a game of cards with faces of a town.

Just passing through, a man and his horse,

Both bedded down for the night,

When the sun rises, his search will continue.

Keith Garrett

FROM PIER TO PIER

Set out early do I before the light, before the sunrise,

Hear the waves crashing near the shore as I begin my stroll.

Scent of the ocean spray wakens me as I start out across the sand,

Seaweed I see washed up on the shore, my bare feet are planted in the wet earth.

My trek across the ancient sand takes me from pier to pier with the wind in my hair,

Walking between the dry and wet sand, my thoughts are scattered everywhere.

Feeling free with the sun beginning to rise, I can now look out and see the ocean,

As the sun rises more and darkness goes to sleep, the water seems to shimmer and sparkle.

As I step upon the warming sand, walking along from pier to pier, seagulls are gathering,

I am mostly alone in the early morning, faces of few pass me by with a quiet hello.

The wind, sky, ocean, are beautiful today, the sun shines down on me, how can life be not great,

I would remain here in this place forever, all around is nothing but the creator’s treasure.

Keith Garrett