"TO BE REMEMBERED"

  What Is the worth of a man or woman, who will judge,

  We are born Into the world, this place we call Earth.

  Stranger's are we as to each other we first see,

  Becoming a family as we grow with the years.

  As an Individual, how do we judge ourselves In the 
  Mirror of time,
  A time to be born, and as the clock ticks we have
  Our day to be gone.
  Am I a good and decent man who shares a smile 
  With a stranger,
   A woman so kind and generous that her own pain 
  Is not shared.
  To be remembered by those who are loved In the 
  Greatest way,
  To know that In their heart's lives a place for you always.

  We came Into this world with no promises of everlasting 
  That special love was not given to us so that alone we 
  Could not live.
  Selfish are the ones who wish unhappiness to those that
  Are happy,
   Letting go or saying goodbye Is a gesture so kind of 
  The heart.
  To be remembered for a smile, a hug, or a listening ear, 
  To be judged Is not of any loved ones fore we judge
  Ourselves with
  The truth that rests In our heart and souls, 

 To be remembered Is to be good and decent, kind and 
  A good person, man to woman.

                                         Keith Garrett                                                



  Waves crashing against the rocks, moving upon the sand,

  Beyond the horizon the sun going down, the sky Is a scene.

  Water of such a brilliant blue, foamy white, leading the way,

  Visions' of colors', visions' of memories come to life.

  Through the eyes are seen lively dreams', what Is made,

  The world Is a wonderful, colorful, memory some day.

                                            Keith Garrett           



  Around us, we hear those who speak,
  Words and phrases to others' who will hear.

  So many different tones from mouths each day,
  Softly spoken or In a deep mean way.

  Talking a lot Is a way for some,
  Fast and unclear Is another way too.

 We hear many voices as we spend our day,
 Talking about their lives and crying about their pain.

  Voices are heard singing songs,
  Which makes us happy and brings our emotions 

  On the phone, there are voices, to us spoken words,
  We can't even see them but still they are heard.

  Without voices, we will not be heard,
   If we are not heard, then there Is silence.

                              Keith Garrett  


                               A WALK THROUGH WINTER

  We set out early for our walk into the cold, frosty day,

  What a beautiful scene as the morning light shines

  Large pine trees are many, standing high in the sky for 
  Quite a while,

  Snow has settled on the ground, like a thick, white blanket, 
  From a passing storm.

  Having a little fun throwing snowballs at each other, hiking 
  Through the woods,

  Pinecones we find along the way, of many shapes and sizes, 
  Create a beautiful scene.
  Icicles are seen hanging from rock formations, as we head 
  Further along into the woods,

  A rushing river of water is a sight, so cold it must be as it travels 
  Beyond where we are.
  A walk through Winter, chilly winds blow after dark, into the night, 

Again it’s daylight.


                                "JUST AN ECHO"

  If you listen carefully your memories can be heard,

  Words' and phrases spoken or listened too are recorded.

  Thoughts' In your head feel at times louder, just an echo,

 Sounds' and scenes from a lifetime played over, can you 

  Noises from children playing, back when just a child, 
  Just a child,

  Friends' from long ago just an echo In time, listen, they 
  Can be heard.

  In the span of a lifetime, like the wind moving by, created 
  In an instance,

  An echo In time we will be, just an echo In time for you
  And me.

                                Keith Garrett                                       


                                   " MAGIC"

  Wizards with wands or magical dust,

  Four leaf clovers and a seven showing, always 
  On two dice.

  Witches and warlocks, wishes or rainbows,

 Do dreams come true, there are stars and moons.

 Do unicorns exist, are there spirits In the mist,

  Is magic a fantasy, what you feel are prayers that 
  Are real.

  Magic lives In the heart, It Is a wanting hope for 
  All that you feel,

  All you hope will be real.

                                              Keith Garrett


                             LOST IN THE SNOW

 This tale is about a man, one I knew,

 Traveled down a road, now lost in the snow.

  Dark nights and alone, cold, so very cold,

  Stands on his feet but which way to go.

  It's hard to see if your eyes are closed,

  Lost in the snow but there's a place of help.

  Don't rely on who is searching, maybe no one 
  At all,

  Be strong old pal, find your own way out.

  Believe it or not, some have been seeking you out,

  Worried about your safety, the message is there.

 There's much around to keep you alive,

  Nothing comes easy, don't give up my friend,

  Fore you must try or you'll surely die.

  Lost in the snow is no way to end,

 There's a road that will take you again to a friend.

                Keith Garrett  


                              LIKE A BLANKET,

                                  I COVER YOU

  Down from the clouds, upon you I fall,

  Light and fluffy but cold I am called.

 To the rain I am related, to start out soft,

  As the earth gets warmer, then am I lost.

  Like a blanket I cover you, not so warm 
  You will know,

  White as a marshmallow, not as heavy it 
  Is told.

  Throw me you can, or watch as I come down, 

  Not much noise do I make as I touch the ground.

  I'll go away for a while you see,

  But come back I will, for i'm always to be.

                                        Keith Garrett


                          FOLLOW THE RIVER

  Watching the water as It flows' down stream,

  I walk Its' path on either side.

  As the river turns,' swaying from side, to side,

 The rushing water crashes and throws' Itself at me

  As I make my way along.

  On my journey past trees and hills,'

  Notice do I the bright sun and big white clouds' 
  Passing me by.

  Follow, follow the river on a course chosen by Itself,

 Onward, downward until such a place where the water 
  Lies still.

  I follow the river to a resting spot,

  Now It Is time for this soul to sleep.

                                             Keith Garrett


                              SHADOWS IN THE SNOW

  So cold it is on a Winter's day,

 The trees in the distance are empty, 
  With a touch of frost upon them.

  Appears very quiet with not a soul to 
  Be found,

  Nature by itself, nature not disturbed.

  A fence runs across the snow covered land,

  Followed by shadows that accompany its path.

  Around the trees, through the hills, and 

  As the sun goes down there are shadows, shadows 
  In the snow.

                                 Keith Garrett