BY THE CREEK,

IS WHERE I DREAM

Away from everyday, away from what is always seen,

To a place of peace by the water, where the grass is green.

Birds of song dance in the sky, here in solitude, this is I,

A giant oak tree that’s as old as many night skies, by the creek.

Myself searching for a dream come true, seeking in my reflection,

In the still water the face of a man staring at me, what does he see.?

By the creek is where I dream, lost wishes sleep at the bottom,

This always working mind tries desperately to awaken them.

I’m a different sort of man now, lessons of mistakes learned,

Taught by what and the who of that which is gone away.

Lessons learned from the no more, by the creek, by the creek

Keith Garrett.

THE PRAYER

Where have I seen you, have I seen you before, how is it I know you,

Do you recognize this forever searching man as he seeks the path?

I’ve strayed away from where it is I belong, not as lost as before,

Show me the kind hearted one who will walk with me as I search.

I’ve discovered and I’ve lost but through it all much has been gained,

The miracle I have sought has not been for me granted at this time.

But perhaps a gift not chosen is the right and chosen gift handed to me,

Prayed have I for peace, happiness, and love, I watched for it day and night.

Do I not listen and am I possibly a bit clouded in these eyes of mine,

Are these things of want circling me always as my heart is closed?

I’ve taken a step back from those who may show care and concern,

I’m unsure and confused of which is friend or foe, how will I know.

Some of those who mean the most to me are not here, do not appear,

I am here, sometimes a little bit lonely, I await a soul who might care.

Keith Garrett

THE RIDER

He’ll ride in the morning, through the day travels the road,

High up on the hills, a shadow beneath the clouds, he rides.

Into the wind, the rain blowing against his face, he rides,

The snow falls as through the mountain passes he is moving.

A man with no name, throughout the land maybe a glimpse,

He’s known only as the rider carrying whatever for hire.

This horse he rides with colors of solid black and white spots,

A demon creature, wicked with speed like the wind.

Brown and black hat worn on his head gives a mysterious appearance,

A coat so long for cover and warmth shields him from weather, the rider.

Boots on his feet of dark, broken in pattern can be noticed in the stirrups,

This man of the land rides and rides just he and his faithful companion.

Like a ghost so quiet he roams the wild wilderness of life,

He’s known as the rider, into the night he rides.

Keith Garrett

TEARS FROM THE SKY

Watching the smog as it fills up high,

Polluted water, senseless acts day and night.

Wars of destruction, the greed in a man,

Acts of violence that destroy nature and human beings.

Trash fills the streets, anger and hate consume,

What are we doing in our world of doom?

Evil thoughts, random killings go on,

The family structure dissolves, crumbles, and falls.

Tears from the sky, god watches as our time goes by,

Stand back and watch, you just might cry.

Keith Garrett

I’M GETTING OLDER

I first opened my eyes, once tiny and bright to this world,

A memory I do hold but remember not as I was a baby.

Pictures of my life are few compared to the window of my mind,

Once only a child, things I knew were also few, children that played

With this child are lost with time, always in my mind.

The world seems smaller as my life has spread further with the passing days,

I’m getting older, once i was a young teenager moving ever so fast.

Birthday to birthday comes a new number pinned to my aging soul,

Grateful am I with a much appreciated thank you and love of god

That he has given me life this long, I hope and pray that one day I’ll

Be forever remembered and once in a while thought of by you.

I’m getting older, maybe a touch wiser, possibly a better me,

I’m getting older, remember who I am, my name is Keith,

I am a mortal man living in this gift layed in my hand.

Keith Garrett

FLIGHT OF A DRAGON

With speed like the wind, to the sky, it soars,

So massive this beast, listen to the sound as it roars.

Legend or myth, this monster of fire,

Just the sight of it is hard not to admire.

Of long ago these stories are told,

FLIGHT OF A DRAGON, in a time of old.

Where did they come from,? these creatures so wild,

Born down below or in the mind of a child.

Sometimes in your thoughts, look up in the air,

Flight of a dragon, maybe still there.

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

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

HOUSE OF FIRE

It exists, know of this but never to go there, not I,

Believe do I in a greater force, a spirit of love and hope.

For the evil that lives, the black hearted human will see,

A house of fire built to accommodate all the bad living inside.

I believe in sin fore my share I have collected throughout life,

I am not an evil sort but my sins are just as any other man’s.

Pray do I for forgiveness as one day I will surely dwell in heaven,

The house of fire grows always just as heaven will always grow,

Faith and the goodness of mankind may change this world and

A life after will be larger as the house of fire may weaken and die.

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