THOUGHTS OF THE PAST

THOUGHTS OF THE PAST

I think of being a child so long ago in the snow,

My family was much younger in those days of course.

A father young with energy, a mother full of life and friends,

When Batman and the Munsters were a favorite show of my day.

Coloring books from the past, Milton the monster show and more,

Bozo the clown or the Billy Barty show, Massachusetts long ago.

From the East to the West, life would change in a big, big, way,

What a different place, to this day I miss where I use to play.

Memories from Elementary school, games played, friends of the time,

From where I started to where I now stand, so much in between.

Change never goes away, faces fade and nothing remains the same,

Thoughts of the past keep me company, are they the only things that last.

Keith Garrett

 

SENSES

“SENSES”

Within us, there are things that make us feel and communicate,

They are sensitive but powerful to the human function.

Necessary are these but not threatening to the survival of ones being,

They give us the ability to seek out and experience the wonders of the world.

The sense of smell gives us the ability to distinguish between fragrances,

To like or dislike what is in the air.

To see is to have the chance of being able to personally witness in color,

Or black and white pictures of the world remembered by your own mind.

Amazing is to hear fore it is the sense of many musical sounds,

To the ears the knowledge of whom or what is near you.

Now the sense of taste is a great and remarkable experience for all,

Eating foods and enjoying drinks, the word flavor means what to your mouth.

Touch or feel can be an incredible and exciting pleasure to enjoy,

It is the sense that man and woman may share together.

Keith Garrett

 

NO ROOM TO MOVE

NO ROOM TO MOVE

Will it come to be, more cars, people multiply so fast,

Take away the land and raise the buildings high, so high.

Crowded streets, bodies standing feet to feet,

Standing in line all the time, the lines get longer, wasted time.

The freeways are slow moving, one day will they just freeze,

No room to move, no space to breathe, sardines in a can are we.

Houses today rowed up like dominoes, to close for peace,

Along the sidewalks nothing but cars and debris that I see.

The sky is crowded, noise and traffic of its own, progress is said,

Ships throughout our oceans, no room to move, no room to move.

Keith Garrett

 

HILLS’ OF FIRE

HILLS’ OF FIRE
Keith Garrett

Look to the sky, watch as the smoke rises high above,

Beauty disappears as the heat consumes what was green.

Ignorance or wind destroys god’s masterpiece created,

A fool is a man who can’t see the gift put in front of him.

See the hills of fire, watch as the animals run, see their fear,

See all that can be seen through eyes of pain, of sorrow.

Hills of fire burn no more, fire of death be rained down upon,

Let life reappear, let the colors so bright be a sight.

Hills of fire and death, open your eyes, do you see,

Hills of pain, hills of sorrow, open your eyes, do you see.

Hills of beauty and laughter, open your eyes, do you see,

Hills of breath, hills of darkness, open your eyes, do you see.

Hills of danger and mistrust, open your eyes, do you see,

The glow in the sky, a scar for all to see.

Hills of eternity and life, open your eyes, do you see,

Hills of slumber, hills of strength, open your eyes, do you.

Take these hills of fire away, never again, there’s a price you pay.

THINKING OF MAN

THINKING OF MAN

Wow!, think about it, everyone has changed just as the times have changed,

Way back in time when food had to be hunted for daily, appreciation for a bite.

Today fast food on every corner that is slowly killing all around the world,

When we don’t finish our plates then we simply toss it away, down the drain.

There was a time when a man could drink from a lake or stream, refreshing,

Today without an intelligent thought it is perhaps for a dollar polluted water.

Way back in the west, many places, in fact, a body could rest their weary head

Under a tree, make camp and sleep, hunt, have some peace without a stare,

We come to the future where a person is now labeled homeless, we stare.

Loitering and vagrancy are the words used, no sleeping, hard to survive,

Move along it will be said to the one who dares to be free and live in peace.

It’s come to where neighbors fighting and the sounds of sirens are the way,

Nature is screamed at, a burden to many as they make their beautiful sounds in the day.

Trash in the streets but that’s okay, another will clean it if they come this way,

Thinking of man, this way of the future, we now pay a price for water, air, and even dirt.

Keith Garrett

IN HIS ROCKING CHAIR

IN HIS ROCKING CHAIR

He sees the day, on his porch the world is his scenery,

The shows are always different, nothing stays the same.

Every day he rests his weary soul in his special place,

A lifetime of family and friends but slowly they vanish.

If you pass him by then not a care might you have,

He’s not just an old man, a mother’s son, once a young man.

In his rocking chair, he can go back in time, yesterday in his mind,

He watches the boy running with his friends, an old man at day’s end.

He has had quite a life as the value of his being does not fade with the days,

His time here has aged him just as it does every mortal being.

Don’t be fooled while this man with a name sits in his rocking chair,

He has much to say from a mouth, eyes that have watched many seasons,

In his rocking chair he sits taking in the day, he sees the sun going down.

Keith Garrett

 

FOREVER

FOREVER

Above from the wide open sky, the sun shines ever so bright,

Will it warm our world always or one day say a farewell.?

What if the wind that we feel but cannot see goes away,

Will it again below across the hills and make the trees sway.

The glowing moon sits like a lighthouse in the sky,

Watching, always watching but for how long will it rise?

The rain falls from the sky, from the clouds that drift on by,

Will the drops take from the earth the thirst so as not to die?

See the animals run through the woods and across the plains,

Today they live somewhat free, tomorrow will they be?

We live, we love, dance to the music, sing from our hearts,

Search for the happiness that makes it all worth living.

There are things that may be never, things never lost,

Nothing lasts forever fore forever we are not.

Keith Garrett

 

LEFT IN A CHAIR

LEFT IN A CHAIR

A husband now gone, a lifetime spent together,

She has a life, not young anymore but a human being.

Everything has changed for this nice lady of an older age,

Taken from her home where comfort was her daily friend.

Cast aside in such ways, disregarded as a person due to aging,

Sad as the family she raised now takes away her Independence.

From once a baby now treated once again as a child, I watch this,

They wait for her to go, out of greed they seem not to care,

She sits by a back door, it seems her life is left in a chair.

Keith Garrett

 

FEET IN THE CREEK

FEET IN THE CREEK

Beneath the trees that touch the sky,

Down where their leaves fall to the ground.

Across a meadow, beyond the grass so tall,

A creek with flowing water, I travel under the sun.

What a treat, my shoes are off, my feet in the creek,

Under these trees that have stood here for some time,

Beneath the blue and clouded sky, water touches my feet

Feet in the creek, a cool, flowing breeze, just these things and me.

Keith Garrett

EVERYONE HAS A STORY

EVERYONE HAS A STORY

Before our first breath of life, our first day recognized,
A book, blank on the inside, pages not yet written.
The cover plain without scene or color, our story begins,
This is our book until the last page written, everyone has a story.
We begin with that which we first see, pictures created,
We have the choice to write this ourselves or be written about.
Live our lives through our own eyes, walk and dream, page by page,
We will learn and experience many things as we travel our chosen path.
There will be times when a road taken is not the one we might desire,
We will come across every emotion created and attempt to deal with it.
Everyone has a story to write, write it yourself until the last page,
When it’s time to put that pen down, rest your weary head.

Keith Garrett