LAUGHTER IN THE WOODS

How deep the woods, into the mist of the early morning,

Through the trees my feet walk upon the aging leaves.

Can’t see the sky beyond the trees so high,

Quiet is the sound as i move along.

Something there, an echo through the cool, wet air,

Laughter far off in the distance, no one there.

I search as it calls to me, my curiosity,

Listen to it i do with no direction be known.

Are you there, are you anywhere, someone,

Laughter in the woods, only laughter in the woods.

How strange it seems, am i only in a dream,

The sounds of neverending laughter are here.

Laughter in the woods, nothing but laughter in the woods.

Keith Garrett

A PERFECT CRIME

They think that they are of something unique,

No one ever is watching, no one sees they think.

They plot and they plan, not so logical, woman or man,

Thoughts that roam their scary, sick minds,

They act calm and kind as they plan ones demise.

A perfect crime of many sorts fill the criminal minds,

They seem not to worried about being caught at the time.

Going on with their deeds believing they will always be free,

When they plan a perfect crime, what is in their minds.

Keith Garrett

A DRIFTING MAN

On a road of travel without any end,

Rests his weary body wherever he can.

Sleeps in the night hidden from sight,

Days’ of length, the next stop is any place.

From town to town he wanders with hope,

Worry fills his head about that next meal.

Find a job and stay in one place a short while,

Friends and smiles disappear with the miles.

A drifting man sees much of the land,

Meets many faces, lonely where he stands.

A price he pays to live in such a way,

There’s a gift in seeing the world,

What’s taken away is the peace of settling in one place.

He chooses a path, he’s a wandering man,

Today he’s here, gone again.

Keith Garrett

YORBA LINDA,

AND MY PARENTS

Memories of Yorba Linda and my parents are something from a dream,

It seems like it was yesterday, so many years ago when we were together.

We had our house on Fernglen Drive, we lived in the moment, no worries,

From nineteen seventy-two to nineteen seventy-seven we were a family there.

Five years seemed like a lifetime back then, so many great times in that house.

Not everything or day was perfect, We all had our own struggles and bad times.

My Mothers name was Barbara, unfortunately, she passed away on March 16, 2019.

I remember them both so young and alive, busy lives like every other parent.

My father had passed away in nineteen sixty-nine, Halloween night, horrible!

Doug Keener is my stepfather, I recently found out that he was diagnosed with

Dementia. We go from young with energy to not just getting older but these

Diseases that take everything from us. Yorba Linda was my favorite place in life.

Barbara and Doug had fights and laughter, nights of family dinners and watching T.V.

They spent time with friends, out to dinner and family trips that would come to an end.

Yorba Linda still rests there in my mind, with the hills that once were, the old streets.

A house that still is, who lives in it who has no idea or thoughts of us in it.

My parents did have lives once upon a time in a house upon a hill, Yorba Linda.

My mother is gone now, a stepfather who is now getting ready to slowly disappear.

He will at some point forget that house, a wife he once had, good and bad times.

Yorba Linda and all of us will be gone from a man’s mind, memories of great days.

My mother was once a beautiful lady, she took care of her family and had troubles

of her own. When I think about seven kids in the house and two stepsisters over

for the Summer, I don’t know how they did it, a lot of work and a drink or two in hand.

Yorba Linda and my parents was a long time ago, memories that rest in cobwebs

In a long-ago town.

Keith Garrett

A BOY NAMED PAUL

I knew a boy by the name of Paul,

He went away late Summer or Fall.

When he was little he played in the snow,

These things I remember from long ago.

I think of the smile he had on his face,

It fades from my memory yet there’s still a trace.

When I think of him it reminds me,

Of just how fragile this life can be.

It makes me feel special for he came to me,

Just a short time before life set him free.

There was a boy by the name of Paul,

He laughed and played but that’s not all.

He had a life of which I speak,

Cut too short, it did not reach its peak.

I’ll think of him as you do,

A soul in heaven, a part of you.

For his Mother, Father, and Sister.

Keith Garrett

HILLS’ OF DARKNESS

Through the hills’ I walk to find a place,

Of peace and happiness for a home, I’ll make.

Escape I will from times of darkness,

Into the light of day where I want to be.

Leave behind things’ of the past,

Onward I walk till I find my path.

As my travels’ through the hills’ continue,

See do I clearer from my eyes.

These hills’ of darkness I leave behind,

Out In the open, of better things’ I’ll find.

Keith Garrett

BETWEEN DARKNESS AND LIGHT

The sun shines bright, it then fades into the dark of night,

Just as the heart and soul of a human crawl from the light into dark.

To hide from the pain and sorrow of a tragic day, hide inside and go away,

Try and forget in ways that at the time seem fine to a broken mind.

Trauma is a most unpleasant visitor as it has no sympathy or kindness,

Steals from one the smile and sometimes brings much fear, forever scars.

Falling, a deep hole in which a soul believes no escape, hurting the self appears the way,

A path of destruction with no turning back, but wait! there is surely a chance.

You found your way lost, between darkness and light, you must fight to make it back,

Something has happened that ripped you apart, not fair but it was God’s will.

He knew you would fall, your test would be to find your way back from the darkness,

You climbed out of that hole and with his hand, you also found your way back to the light,

Today holds a piece of yesterday, forever a thought, life does move ahead, another today.

Keith Garrett

FINDING FREEDOM

The search for freedom and a fight to keep it,

After thousands of years more is taken away today.

It’s all up for sale, we can barely walk in the hills anymore,

Dirt, water, and even air are not ours without a dollar.

We are not as free as we believe, we are allowed to do as they say,

All wars are not about freedom, most are of corruption and money.

Finding freedom when so much has changed is becoming rare,

We are losing it from every direction, before our eyes, and behind our backs.

The enemy appears to be us, look to our neighbor more than across the sea,

Look around people, we are losing our rights, finding freedom between what is seen.

Keith Garrett

BEYOND MY REACH

With my hand stretched to the sky I can not touch the stars so high,

Nor the clouds, a falling star, or the sun going down.

The wind, I can not grab hold, a bird in flight,

A dream in the night, never a yesterday.

Beyond my reach is not my dreams,

It is not that which I pray for.

The hand of God I can not touch, in my heart, I can surely take hold,

It is not hope, nor faith, it is not a tomorrow.

Beyond my reach are many things,

Beyond my reach is not everything.

Keith Garrett

SOMETHING ABOUT ME, AND ALL OF YOU

I started writing in 1998, my first poem was called my fight.

I remember sitting on the floor, a drink, pain, and much sadness.

At the time I was fighting for custody of my children and at times hiding.

My poem was about my children, today it is in a frame on my desk.

I wrote my poetry on paper in those days, I didn’t own a computer.

I never let anyone read my writing, I didn’t want their opinions.

I finally gave myself a treat, I went and bought a computer.

I spent many months typing out my poems, a lot have pictures to them.

To this day I have thousands of poems, 23 binders and still writing.

I started letting people read them many years ago, I had the chance

to read them in front of an audience thanks to my son’s Kung- Fu Instructor.

I was scared but started doing it at every Demonstration and award ceremonies.

A guy that I was speaking with once suggested I start a blog, post my writing.

My sons’ girlfriend got me started, she set up WordPress and helped me out.

I have made some friends on here as well as so much support with my writing.

I have learned not to get angry, I opened myself up to opinions and criticism.

I just say thank you for reading and think about what has been said about a poem.

I have learned a lot from having a blog on WordPress, I appreciate all of you.

I can write better and have had many ideas thanks to your thoughts and comments.

Thank you for reading,

Keith Garrett