HOUSE ON THE HILL

It stands above, from the road it is large and quietly mysterious,

Never seen is a person or people but lives there is certainly someone.

An old but beautiful, made of brick and wood house that rests on a hill,

The iron gate that surrounds it says to stay away, its beauty is always.

Appears that this old house on the hill is empty and lonely, from the outside,

There runs water down the side of the house into a lake that shines in the sun.

One can only imagine the appearance of the inside as over the years who did see,

The fact remains that somebody does live in such a place as this, a person not seen.

Why would one so desire to hide from the world or do they simply wish to be left alone,

The mysterious, quiet, house on the hill has stood for many generations as told,

Years of family perhaps at one time were known, what’s inside, a book of stories old.

Keith Garrett

HER NAME BE LISA

I sit here on a weekly basis visiting her, the green grass beneath me,

Life goes on all around but In between a piece of land that rests quietly.

It holds those who have passed on, who rest peacefully In the great beyond,

This is such a beautiful spot where the dead lay silently beneath the aging trees.

I can feel the wind upon my skin as It Is seen with branches moving musically,

The slightly clouded sky moves along forever as forever this will be her grave sight.

Her name be Lisa as It will be always carved In stone, I sit here while she Is forever gone,

A place she goes, somewhere, where It Is only the peacefully departed shall ever know.

This place where I sit, a memorial to them, to her, so that all will be remembered by some,

I know that she rests not here beneath a gravestone with her name upon it, she’s gone.

Physically It Is as close as can be, does she know I am here, she sleeps always In my heart,

Her name be Lisa, she once had life here as I still live on without her, one day our souls will meet.

Keith Garrett

THE FLOWING RIVER

I sit and watch the flowing river, the river runs away from me,

I’m here alone beneath the singing trees, the river flows into the sea.

Looking down upon the valley, the river flows between the rocks and me,

I watch the trees, the valley is seen, the flowing river is a forever dream.

The sun is setting upon all that is seen, I am life and the river is me,

I am not pretend as I have been forever, the flowing river flows through me.

Keith Garrett

HEART OF A WINNER
I’ve struggled In search of the worth of a man, to be a winner,

Questions I’ve asked, thoughts of the value from within the human heart.

Created not of money or material things, objects, treasures that we hold,

Born within us, no! not an Inherited trait, the heart of a winner.

In the morning awake do we to the rising sun, we’ve just begun,

From our nightly slumber, we stand and face the day, each day.

What drives us, what moves us along, perhaps survival,

It is the man, the woman who strives to achieve In which we see.

To the mountain top, we may never get but we’ll keep on climbing,

We do not stop fore one day a hope that It will be there,

Standing tall with your head held high, not In the physical sense.

But a feeling In the heart, a place In the mind,

To strum the guitar till the tune Is through, finish what you’ve started.

Shoes on your feet, each day a trek to work, at the end a mile home,

Not to win the game or conquer the fight.

Give it your all and sleep for the night.

I do not know where my road will take me, what I battle has no ending,

I stand here a winner for all that I have accomplished,

A winner Is one who strives to make tomorrow a better day.

Keith Garrett

HEART AND SOUL

Everything I’ve got, what’s inside of me strong,

Pours out with energy, stopped I can not be, give up I will not.

Stand and take notice as I conquer what invades my spirit,

Emotionally grow do I, strength and power absorbed within this soul.

Heart of the lion oh! I do possess, listen to me, hear me roar,

Weakness stares at me, such a pathetic coward it is, look away.

Fear and sorrow attack and intimidate who I am, rise up and fight!

Walking away, turn and gaze over my shoulder leaving it behind.

Hear what this man has to say, do you know that which lives in me,?

I grow and grow fore I have the heart and soul.

Keith Garrett

HEAD HELD HIGH

SHOULDERS BACK

Whatever gets you down, that which makes you frown,

Don’t let it take from you the smile from your face.

We meet with obstacles and challenges brought forth,

Tests of faith and courage to see what we’re made of.

Painful scars, we all hold something inside,

One foot in front of the other, we may cry but no surrender.

Each day we are blessed as also we are taught,

Some things are never easy, we strive for happiness.

Grateful for things we have, for the love of just one person,

We borrow trouble if we worry about what has yet to come.

Head held high, shoulders back,

Strength is every moment that we never give in.

Keith Garrett

HE WOULD BUILD AN ALTAR

Nobody believed he would survive as he lay there dying inside,

This young boy of twelve shot by an evil man with no heart.

A father with a faith so strong would never give up on a son,

His family, friends, and a town were concerned about his behavior.

He took his son to a wide open field of green grass where he might heal,

Set up camp and began to pray while his son lay motionless, staring.

He would build an altar of stone with a cross placed upon the top,

Seen for miles by travelers, talk of this altar and father would also spread.

Night was falling, the sun setting, supper was ready, and a visitor would show,

An old man with a cane would ask, let me try as the boy would not take broth.

The old man asked, if he is not saved will you lose your faith,? No said the father,

The old man went behind the altar, the father followed and the old man was gone.

Nothing but distance all around, where could he have gone, the father believed,

The father now wore a beard as the next night a storm was forming, this be the night.

The old man appeared in the dark and told the father, go to the altar! now!,

Lightning struck the altar and the father fell to the ground, the night was done.

When morning came and the sun rose in the sky his family was there wondering,

The father stepped from behind the altar, a true miracle as did his son with life.

Keith Garrett

HE WANTED TO BE ALONE

High up In the hills away from the crowded hostile world,

He lived alone, a quiet man of peace In his cabin of a home.

A fireplace and a pile of wood, always chopping to keep It warm,

He has all that he needs or wants with a roof above his head.

A man wakes to the morning light, begins his day with a cup of coffee,

A companion joins him for breakfast, a four legged friend of loyalty.

When the days are beautiful and filled with the sun they venture out,

Walking among the trees and the beauty seen high above what lives below.

He wanted to be alone In his made of wood home, he and a friend,

In the night as the crickets are the only sound, a chair, and a smoking pipe,

In a cabin on a hill lives a man mostly alone, all that Is needed, a smile and a home.

Keith Garrett

HE STOOD BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

Driving along the dusty road I could see him In the distance,

A tall figure of a man, a long way from anywhere, who Is he.

Dressed In Jeans, a bit dirty to be expected, boots, and a dark shirt,

Warm outside In the middle of the Summer for where he stood.

What are you doing out here so far from civilization I asked him,

He did not speak, would you like a lift and maybe a drink of water.?

He hesitated and then stared, a very strange sort of man standing there,

There might possibly have been something wrong as he accepted the ride without words.

We traveled along for quite a while, music playing as quiet rode along with me,

He was such a mysterious being but for some reason, I felt trust In him.

We kept driving along the road, many sights to see, I looked at him, he smiled,

Who Is this man who doesn’t speak and stood by the side of a road In the heat?

We came to a place where In front of us stood hills stretching far beyond our reach,

He motioned for me to stop, Put his hand on my shoulder and then again smiled,

Where are you going I asked,? He pointed, got out of my car and walked away,

Turning he said the words thank you friend and were no more to be seen.

Keith Garrett

GOLDEN HAIRED LITTLE GIRL

She was born In nineteen twenty eight, a star she would soon be,

This golden haired little girl with a pout that could melt anyone’s heart.

She would sing and dance shaking her golden curls all about,

A beautiful little child, a star growing up back in the thirties.

There has never been a child star like her and never will be again,

Her smile would light up any room, she lived in a time of depression.

World war two was closing In but her movies could take away the struggles

Of everyone’s pain from those days, you could go away If only for a moment.

What a life for a girl named Shirley, so young when the whole world knew her,

In a time of great entertainers, a changing world, Shirley Temple was around.

She grew up to be a woman but the little girl would go on to live forever,

Her movies will never go away so she will live in our hearts always.

Here’s to you golden haired little girl, In heaven, you’ll be again that little girl.

Keith Garrett