A SMALL TOWN CHRISTMAS

   As it was when I was young, living in a small town,

  Neighbors who mostly knew one another, a good morning.

  Downtown, an enormous tree decorated for all to see,

  It's getting cold and windy, snow is beginning to fall.

  Street lights are swaying, there is music playing in a 

  Shoppers going here and there, friendly with a smile.

  A group of children are bundled in their jackets, walking,

  House to house, they go caroling, singing out for 

  Warm and cozy are they who are in their homes this night,

  Enjoying a fire together as they read stories to the children.

  It's getting late so off to bed they go waiting for Santa Clause,

   Much snow outside fore in the morning a snowman awaits.

   A small town Christmas, there is nothing that compares.

                                              Keith Garrett


                                             CREATE ME

  Whom shall I be, what kind is thought of in your mind,

  You possess the imagination and wisdom to understand.

  If you were to create me would I be of a good and kind heart,

  Would I care about this world and be of help to 

  When you create me will you add compassion and love,

  Will I try and change the world, not be of destruction?

  Create me as a good human being, otherwise do not waste your

  "Do not create me at all"

                                                                              Keith Garrett


                                  CANDLE IN THE GLASS

   Within a dome, it stands surrounded by glass,

   Held up by an iron structure it is a beautiful sight.

   Red this candle, glows bright in the darkness of the 

  For this holiday season a representation of the light, a 

   Candle in the glass, lit each night brings a peaceful 

   Burning bright, it gives light until a good night, 
   Tomorrow  A  Sight.

                                                       Keith Garrett


                        EVERYBODY HURTS SOMETIMES

  Everybody hurts, everybody cries sometimes, 

  Everybody wants to be needed,  can you even

  I am crying from within my soul, take a look within my 

  I want you to hear my words, does anybody care what  
  Happens To Me now?

  Everybody loves at one time, tears, as if one day it  
   Drifts Away, Do you cry?

  Is it possible to love just one more time, time slips   
  Away Into An Olden age.

  Everybody hurts sometimes, are we gathered here for 
   One Last  Time?

  Does it hurt when life is so unkind, there are ghosts   
  That Linger Within My mind?

  Everybody hurts, are we all alone within our thoughts 
   WhenvThe Lights Go out?

  Shed a tear for the world tonight, everybody hurts, is  
  Everything Alright Tonight?

                                             Keith Garrett



  There are those with looks of a fear unexplained,

  Scared of something,the world does not 

  Laughing in the park, a man, and woman,

  Happy are their faces as seen from the street.

  Crying all alone under a tree, tears of life,

  Sadness spills out of a heart so broken.

   Anger sits in the soul of a human being with hurt,

   Upset at the loss of loves rejection.

   Many faces of this life worn, expressions learned,

   Expressions so true, those of me, those of you.

                                        Keith Garrett



 A hero just as anyone, he refused to carry a gun,

 They called of him a coward, a warrior, he stood tall.

 Of his country he did believe, they did not care about 
 His beliefs,

 Daws the coward was his name, world war two, death is 

 Hero without a gun, a man who did as much as anyone,

 He was strong as they thought he did not belong, without 
 A gun.

 He stayed behind, physically and mentally a man who gave 
 It his all,

 Afraid just as any man, never a coward, strong as anyone 
 Fore he had no gun.

 He walked, he ran through the war without a weapon to 
 Call his own,

 A hero for sure, coward, a word never breathed in a 
 Lifetime no more.

                     Keith Garrett


               A MOMENT IN TIME

 A speck of dust, just a trickle of water,

 Soon would blow with the wind and dry into nothing.

 Our time is now for we are a whisper wanting to 
 Be heard,

 A short period for laughter, remembered for what 
 We leave.

 For so long has time existed, the world, the universe 
 So large,

 We are but a fragment, a particle of all that was 

 A moment in time was this gift we were given from 
 God above,

 A moment to see and love all there is to understand  
 From this.

 Where we go from here we shall not know, but hold 
 No fear,

 Like many fallen leaves from a tree, we are one, we 
              Keith Garrett


             UNDER A TREE, SHE CRIES

 A sunny day, a shaded tree, she rests,

 See her do I as passing by, she cries.

 Why do you have tears, what makes you cry,?

 Such a beautiful day, do things not go your way?

 Why do I cry asks the man walking by, why?

 A friend has just died, she wanders now in the sky.

 Sick was she as on this day god has taken her away,

 Forever missed will be a friend of mine, not fair I say.

 Hear what I say as under a tree you cry,

 Her pain and suffering are no more, listen too just why.

 She lies on the earth as her spirit so happy, says 

 Laughing with Angels, walking forever with the lord up 
 So high,

 Under a tree she cries, I walked her way at a most 
 Perfect time.
                   Keith Garrett



 These things I might find strolling along a 
 Country road,

 From my mind I can create a day or reality along 
 My way.

 I see the sun rising in the early morning sky, my 
 Day begins,

 Dream do I of a perfect setting, fields and hills 
 Of beautiful color.

 Nothing can go wrong, not in this made up scene 
 That I want to be,

 Swim do I in a pond that appears along a country road, 
 Quiet and alone.

 There is a wind blowing through the trees, across the 
 Field I feel,

 Hay stacks scattered in a country dream, a farm where 
 I wish to be.

 Along a country road all possibilities unfold, from  
 A dream, all that can be seen.                   

                            Keith Garrett


                 BILLY THE KID

 A story to tell as on the eve of the civil war it 
 Would come to be a birth,
 An Irish neighborhood in New York city, November 
 Twenty third, eighteen fifty nine.

 William Henry McCarty JR. later known as the infamous 
 Outlaw, Billy the kid,
 A mother known as Katherine, a father unknown, a little 
 boy would never know.
 William H. Bonney would one day join the Lincoln County   
 War, life would become short.

 Legend tells that he killed twenty one men, later a 
 Folk hero is told,
 Five foot nine he stood, blue eyes, smooth complexion, 
 Sometimes a friendly sort.                      

 Some say he was a neat dresser, liked to sport his 
 Mexican sombrero,
 Billy was skilled with firearms, a cowboy, gambler,  
 Cattle rustler, he was an outlaw.

 Sheriff Pat Garrett would come to hunt him down, Billy   
 Was only a kid, what waited for him.

 He was cornered, shot and killed by a man, a lawman,  
 July Fourteenth, eighteen eighty one.

 He was only twenty one when his life ended, a young man  
 Dies back in a time at Fort Sumner

 New, Mexico, Pat shot him down, He was an outlaw but 
 He was once a mother's son,
 Rest in peace Billy the kid.

                       Keith Garrett