GHOSTS IN THE WIND

Back to where you once belonged, the old neighborhood.

You went back there, much older than you used to be,

Walked passed houses and strolled up and down streets of old,

Trees have grown, faces have changed beyond those long ago days.

Listen! Voices of friends blowing in the wind, visions of yesterday,

Knock on the door, they are not there anymore, the hourglass runs out.

They flow, they drift with the wind, good friends are gone, good friends live,

We gathered together in a town, ghosts in the wind make many a sound.

Keith Garrett

GREATNESS IN THE EIGHTIES

What a team, a very special and amazing group of men,

Seems like just yesterday they were here now a memory so fine.

They were the Lakers with quickness and speed,

Down the floor they would run, no one like them could there be.

They could pass the ball with such finesse,

Wizards of the court when they were at their best.

Something special each one would have to give,

Together they were an orchestra, like music so fine.

Destroy their opponent each battle they would do,

These talented sportsmen to the world all knew.

Magic their leader, on the floor there was nothing he couldn’t do,

A man called big game James as fast and quick with the things he could do.

One they called Cooper for his Coop-a-loop,

Beside him, there was Byron who could shoot the ball too,

Don’t forget A.C. Green who fought for his dream.

Of course in the middle now in the hall of fame,

King Kareem was their giant with his hook so mean.

Let’s nor forget Superman, Kurt Rambis a big part,

Who fought for his team with such a great heart.

Los Angeles Lakers,

Greatness in the eighties. Keith Garrett

I DON’T UNDERSTAND

A matter of faith, yes! this must be as I don’t understand,

Many tales of bad things happening all over this great world.

Although there is much suffering everywhere, I never blame God,

Fore many things are the cause of man, piece by piece the world crumbles.

A story of a man I recall many years ago from a town, Yorba Linda,

He was the reverend of a church, the Moravian Church across from the school.

Cared about people, loyalty to this church and his family, a loving man,

Never a bad deed, throughout life always a helping hand, I remember him.

I have been told of his days now, living with Parkinson’s Disease, he lives,

I don’t understand why a man such as this, devoted to doing good was given this.

A man of God, this is not that which he deserves, for a reason I suppose, God knows,

I don’t understand why some things should be for the wrong man, I don’t understand.

Keith Garrett

GOODBYE, EDDIE HASKELL

A teenager with all the answers, always an act put on,

You thought you could fool everyone with your alter ego.

Eddie, some did not understand you, saw you as a creep,

Your best friend, Walley could always see right through you.

Not very often could you be you, fear and insecurity a secret too,

You were a big mouth but a heart in you of a good, young man.

Such a character, against the system with a grin of disguise,

You will forever walk the streets of Mayfield, ghosts at your side.

Rest in peace, Ken Osmond.
Keith Garrett

DOES IT REALLY HAPPEN?

Are they out there somewhere beyond the earth,

Do they study us as we sleep, what do you think?

What happens behind closed doors, we have an idea,

But what closed doors are worse than another?

Does it really happen? yes, it does, they spy from within,

The dollar exchanges hands in every land, good and bad.

They’re taken and sold, disappear without a trace,

Money to be gained in any type of place.

Does it really happen? don’t close your eyes to the day,

I’m not trying to be of a cynical mind but something is coming our way.

Keith Garrett

LOOK AT THE MOUNTAIN

Up so hight it stands watching over what’s below,

We look to it as something of a miracle.

What do you see when first you glance,

A statue of power still standing long after man.

Upon it lives trees that have grown through much of our history,

Left behind their mark of people that once were.

Streams and waterfalls created through time,

Shrubs and flowers for years grown by the rain that falls.

Look at the mountain, stare at it long,

Born from nature with a story to tell.

Keith Garrett

“EMMA”

She walked along the shore, on a beach many years before,

Young and beautiful, her life seen before her eyes, some time ago.

Long dark hair with a smile that brightens up that which is in sight,

A simple life with the wind blowing through her hair, a lifetime ago.

Her name is Emma, she walks along the shore a different way now,

Shorter hair of a silver gray, a smile that is less as the years have taken,

Eyes that sparkle a little less with the sun going down on an aging life.

Her name is Emma, she walks much slower with the wind through her hair,

She may disappear but she will forever walk along the shore.

Keith Garrett

I’M HERE!

My wagon went off the road, It turned upside down and I’m hurt,

The weather Is good so I lay here In the sun of the day In much pain.

Looking around I see the damage, my supplies are everywhere scattered,

There are people counting on me but I am where not a heart will see me.

As I stare up to the sky I see hawks circling about, not today I say,

I’m alive! there must soon be another wagon on the road passing by.

The crows are getting at the ripped open bags of seed, I throw my empty canteen,

My friends, the town must be searching for me now, I will be found alive.

Time passes by, please find me before the light turns to the dark of night,

A sound, a rumble getting closer, I try to let out a yell but I’m very weak,

I’m here!, with one burst of energy I scream, I’m here! I’m here!.

Keith Garrett

THE PAIN INSIDE

Inside is where my fear hides, I see the fear in humanity,

Anxiety disturbs me, takes from my nights, the world has fright.

Would faith and hope be of the same dream,

The pain inside holds a silent scream.

In most disturbing ways, humans cry inside with pain,

Emotions run deep, what haunts a soul not easily seen,

Abused, physically beaten, the pain inside takes from our day.

Keith Garrett

I DID NOT REALIZE

Mother, when I saw that you were sick I did not want to see,

Never did I want to know that soon you would no longer be.

I did not realize that anything could be so wrong, now you are gone,

We spoke for a few minutes on your last birthday, you had no words.

It did not seem as though you were at that time ill, kept that to yourself,

I did not realize in a flash you would be gone, no more a mother or mom.

What were you feeling, what was in your heart three weeks before you died,

I did not realize what was killing you inside, what you were trying to hide.

Keith Garrett