WINTER FOREST

Upon to us comes the cold that is here,

 When the wind blows through the hills and shadows

On mountains grow near.

A chill in the night as the sun disappears,

The darkness of Winter whispers an end to a year. 

By a warm fire we sit, as it crackles we stare,

Sheltered from the frost and what is out there.

As dawn approaches we see the fog as it rolls in,

Covering the light of day that’s about to begin.

Now it is Winter,  the holidays are here,

A wish for us all, a smile and a cheer.

Keith Garrett

                                              MERRY CHRISTMAS, FATHER

It has been so long since you were here for Christmas with us,

I can barely remember the last one, please don’t take offense.

We were all only young children when last you were here, father,

We will celebrate just as always with our families and remember.

You have never been forgotten, you know of this as I sit and write,

Merry Christmas, father, as it must be so wonderful where you are.

Does music play, Do you hear the songs of the season, you had

Your seasons,

Are there lights so bright, you are always there for the birthday 

Of Jesus.

It must be so amazing to be with God, the angels must be a 

Spectacular sight,

You’re with family and old friends from a lifetime ago, I’ve

Missed you.

Merry Christmas, Father, your children think of you and

Remember all the things about you that are possible,

I hold onto a piece of you always.

Keith Garrett

                                    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 store,

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 Christmas.

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 Claus,

Much snow outside as in the morning a snowman awaits,

A small-town Christmas, there is nothing that compares.

Keith Garrett