PIECES OF TIME


  Our time as humans, animals, anything living loses time,


  All created things age with time, their are many quotes 
  About time.

 Time does get older but never does it go away, never backwards,


  A clock, a watch, the ancient sun dial that watched our day pass,


 An hourglass of sand, those which remind us always of  our time.


  Pieces of time, a memory thought of with long lost friends, 
  Older now,

  Pictures on a mantle, photographs and picture albums, dust coverd.


  Antiques, old relics lost with time, discovered within aging places, 


  Pieces of time, an old remembered house, friends that rest inside.

                                         Keith Garrett

                      QUIET DAY IN NOVEMBER


  Each November there is a tradition, a feast for a day,


  Appreciate and be thankful for what you think you don't 
  Have.
 
  So many lessons we have never learned in a country of anger,


  A fast paced life as we pass one another by, a face seen, a 
  Name not known.

  When will we stand together as they did so long ago in   
  Sixteen twenty one,

  Put all differences aside, racism, the color of skin, and all   
  Those crazy protests.

  Let's make it a quiet day in November, rest, be with your 
  Families, don't take for granted,

  Thanksgiving is easier, football games and a beer or possibly 
  A few drinks to think over.

  Enjoy your day as some can not have, eat more than you need

  As others don't have,

  A day of health and happiness is more than a material thing

  Wished upon to often.

  So let's have a quiet day in November, have some peace for 

  Just a while, anyway,

  The Autumn leaves are falling, just as they did hundreds of

  Years ago on a Fall day.   Keith Garrett
                                           












                               


                                  





                                        


                                            
                                                              

                    A FACE THAT LIES


 The devils eyes have a face that lies,


  It smiles at you with promises so false.


  Giving you gifts of sinful things,


  Changing your appearance, a picture of greed and evil.


  It taunts you into believing that bad is good,


  Material belongings are most precious, love not kind.


  Stand and be recognized, a face that lies,


  Don't stare in the eyes of what does not cry.


  Accept not a wish, not a gift from a demon spirit,


  Give not of yourself, in an instance he'll own your soul.


  A face that lies has many by his side,


  They walk as you walk, do not be fooled, this is no heavenly 
  Stroll to the sky

                                       Keith Garrett

                               

              A FACE THAT LIES


  The devils eyes have a face that lies,


   It smiles at you with promises so false.


  Giving you gifts of sinful things,


  Changing your appearance, a picture of greed and evil.


  It taunts you into believing that bad is good,
 

  Material belongings are most precious, love not kind.


  Stand and be recognized, a face that lies,


  Don't stare in the eyes of what does not cry.


  Accept not a wish, not a gift from a demon spirit,


  Give not of yourself, in an instance he'll own your soul.


  A face that lies has many by his side,


  They walk as you walk, do not be fooled, this is no heavenly 
  stroll to the sky.

                                           Keith Garrett


                                             


                                                       


                                                     

                             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 the 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.       

                    TALE OF AN OUTLAW


  Sit back and listen as I tell you this tale of an outlaw,


  As a child, his future was uncertain as both mother and 

Father were killed.


  Hungry with no one to turn too he begged for food,


 Slept wherever might be shelter, survived as a thief.


  As he grew he then met those who lived as he lived,


 Without skills of his own, he set out on a stolen horse.


  He now was a thief and an outlaw, listen further,


 With a gun, he did not own he now robbed from those 
  Who did not steal.
                                                             
  Finally, he faced one who did not wish to give,


  Murder was now his ultimate crime.


 Hunted down by a sheriff and a posse, he was then caught,


 Because he could not travel a road of good,


 He now layed in the dirty street, dead.

                                                        Keith Garrett

             THE CAPED CRUSADERS


  Do you remember? If  you were a child, an adult would know,

  Nineteen sixty six was the beginning of a super heroes show. 

 I watched as there were villians, Batman and Robin would 
  Only know,
  I collected cards when I was a child, the bat mobile and all 
  They acuired.
  Between a world of reality and make believe, Batman and
  the boy wonder were a child's dream,
  A call from the commissioner that a criminal was back in town, 
  The bat signal was found.
  The Bat boat, the Bat copter, so amazed was I by the Bat cave, 
  Down the poles and on their way,
  Masks and capes, crazy weapons to help them on their journey 
  To stop the criminally insane.
  Remember their names, so many to say, Joker, Riddler, 
  Catwoman and Penguin are a memory,
  So many villians, can you think of their names, look at their faces, 
  A child once again.
  Batman and Robin, a comical team, Bruce Wayne and Dick 
  Grayson were reality in a dream,
  Let's not forget Alfred, buttler and keeper of secrets in between, 
  Gotham City and fantasy.
                                      Keith Garrett

      AMONGST THE AUTUMN TREES



  Into the shadows, underneath the shaded trees,


  Footsteps on a carpet of leaves falling like rain.


  Glance do i at what's above, flashes of sunlight,


  Gleaming through living statues of brilliant color.


 A gentle breeze whispers past through the branches,


 Ornaments let go of the arms that hold them floating


  quietly and gently to the ground.


  Further into the Autumn day i venture,


 All is calm with nature as it invites me to share the day.


 Amongst the Autumn trees lies much more than one dares 
 To dream,

  A never ending cycle of life that can't always be seen.

                           Keith Garrett

                                                                    1943 NICKEL


           A nickel I came upon, old is its age,


          Dirty and worn, 1943 had a name.


         When it was made, which first pocket did hold,


        A celebrity of movies or a farmer tired at night.


        Could it have been the great Joe Dimaggio, 


        As time went by possibly a singer or olympian.


       A little boy had a nickel in his pocket, grew did he,


       A famous writer he became, a 1943 nickel, where could it be?


      Beyond seventy years this silver looking coin has traveled,


      Today it rests with me, who held onto it in 1943?

      Keith Garrett