” THEY WERE DIFFERENT”

He walked down the street full of laughter and fun,

He was poor with no money but no worries had he.

She was from a different world, of money and material things’,

A young woman with everything but she had nothing.

He was free with dreams’ that were possibly only dreams’,

What he wanted was only to be, what he wanted was she.

She was art, dance, and culture passed on by a family,

What she wanted was to be set free, treasure was not just money.

He appeared as a man whose clothing meant he had no worth,

But what Is the worth of a well dressed man with no Integrity?

They were different she and he, drawn together by feelings’,

The heart, the eyes, the touch of man to woman and woman to man.

They were different but they were the same, walking hand In hand,

With what’s love and pain.

Keith Garrett

DAILY PLEASURES

Wake to the morning, a cup of tea or coffee,

Feeling the sunshine on a chilly, Fall morning.

Something to eat as again hunger visits me,

A shower, a hug from maybe someone you love.

Feeling good as health is a precious gift to enjoy,

A stroll down the street just my headphones and me.

A breath of life from morning through the dark of night,

Taken for granted at times, daily pleasures are so fine.

Keith Garrett

“BEYOND THE SKY”

From my beginning, I’ve sat and watched you,

Up so high, beyond what Is blue.

I’m always here but you can’t always see,

Perhaps clouds’ cover your view of beautiful me.

If my lights’ are turned on you might see my smile,

On a dark clear night, I’ll be up for a while.

As you awake In the morning I’ll be asleep,

Another time Is when we’ll meet.

Keith Garrett

REGRETS ABOUT DYING

Mistakes be made, scars are formed and carried along,

Choices we make are a part of our song.

I thought I would die but I did not know it would be in my time,

So scramble I do to mend all that I have done wrong.

Time is against me as I attempt to make up for lost time,

It is that I have waited much too long to write my special song.

I have done some bad and it is for sure that I have shown the good,

I am trying to change my life from the past as the past does not change.

Regrets about dying, this I did not choose, In life, there is much to lose,

I do have my regrets, but it is really not about dying.

Keith Garrett

SPURS

On boots they jingle, western wear for the cowboy,

Listen for them as they approach, they have a sound..

Spurs that spin, dress up a western look,

Worn by the cowboy, cool as he moves.

On a ranch, somewhere in a western town,

A boot with spurs, clicking as the sun goes down.

Take off your boots and rest for the night,

Jingling, clicking spurs again at morning’s light.

Keith Garrett

ADAM

From his death were heard cries of pain,

A man no more, a girl, a memory, all has changed.

No more of this Earth, onward a souls journey to another life,

Somewhere In heaven, he dwells by the Lord’s side.

With those who loved him, he had a place,

In their hearts, forever In their thoughts.

Remembering always that this was a mother’s child,

A sister’s brother, a child’s father, or a girl who loved him

Even though he was not perfect and sometimes a bit wild,

He was once a small child who played In the dirt,

Played In the water, and sometimes got hurt.

This was his time to go, no more pain or sorrow will he know,

Up In the sky, fly away, fly.

Keith Garrett

THE RIDER

He’ll ride in the morning, through the day travels the road,

High upon the hills, a shadow beneath the clouds, he rides.

Into the wind, the rain blowing against his face, he rides,

The snow falls as through the mountain passes he is moving.

A man with no name, throughout the land may be a glimpse,

He’s known only as the rider carrying whatever for hire.

This horse he rides with colors of solid black and white spots,

A demon creature, wicked with speed like the wind.

Brown and black hat worn on his head gives a mysterious appearance,

A coat so long for cover and warmth shields him from weather, the rider.

Boots on his feet of dark, broken in pattern can be noticed in the stirrups,

This man of the land rides and rides just he and his faithful companion.

Like a ghost so quiet he roams the wild wilderness of life,

He’s known as the rider, into the night he rides.

Keith Garrett

IN A DREAM

I saw you wandering in a dream,

In the dark, quiet as you searched.

Not a word spoken from your lips,

What do you seek haunted one.?

I can’t find my way back home as each night I roam,

It is you who see me wandering in a dream.

What do you search for asking one,?

You are the dreamer who saw me wandering.

Now tell me wanderer, who is the dreamer and whose in the dream,

Is it only I and are you the dream.

You call me the haunted one but who is the haunted,

Not a word from my lips but you are the sleeping one.

What is it that you seek, why can’t you find your own way home,?

I do not know as sometimes I am in the dark and quiet.

Keith Garrett

IMPOSSIBLE?

Impossible things, are they to be Imagined,

To walk on the moon, travel too mars.

See and touch the oceans’ floor,

Climb a mountain and reach for more.

It can be done, walking from coast to coast,

Break the sound barrier, faster than the speed of sound.

Travel in a balloon, across the world you go,

Fly in the sky, jump from the highest height.

Impossible things,Impossible you say,

To rid the world of disease and cancer,

Can this be a possibility one day.

To love one another, hold hands across this world,

Terror put to an end, war only a bad dream.

To all Impossible things, too the next one who

Can make it a reality.

Keith Garrett

SHADOW RIDERS

Men crumble, their sins they can not hide, they run,

From the expressions on their faces, aging lines of haunt.

One of them runs, the other chases, they both run together,

One tries to hide his guilt and pain, the other chases to forget.

Shadow riders, at different times they are the rider, the other prey,

They are from a time of civil unrest, they kill and then die in a place for them.

It takes its toll, the hunt, and the run, tears from men dry up in the sun,

Nothing more to be said, two dying men soon would be dead, blood on their hands,

Ones knife in the desert sand, a gun left on a deserted land,

Walk in a different direction, shadow riders are never seen again.

Keith Garrett