QUIETLY LONELY

Into the mist, through the trees, walking barefoot,

Leaves beneath my cold feet, leaves of brown and green.

The sun does not shine as the fog creeps across the land,

Making its way through these lonely woods deep in nowhere.

What is alive as the morning awakes to a quiet day, this day,

So old are these woods, what tales they may tell of yesterday.

Ghosts of the past, people whom once were, they who lived here,

Quietly lonely as I think and dream, just quietly lonely.

Keith Garrett

QUIET SOUNDS

A butterfly floats through the air,

Up the tree, a squirrel climbs high.

A far off plane, hear it far away,

The meow of a cat, water in a stream.

The whisper in the ear of a loving girl,

Ticking of a clock, time of the world.

A flag slowly blowing in the breeze,

Leaves falling from a tree, that’s what I mean.

Slowly a fire burns, crackling of the wood,

Quiet sounds of peace, these things that are good.

Keith Garrett

QUALITY OF LIFE

When we are young for granted we take running till day is done,

Strong legs and energy, so fortunate if you are without sickness.

Adjust do we our every day in different ways as we wear down, decay,

Push on through, never surrendering to age or time, we do let go.

Quality of life, that’s how we wish to live, pain free and happy,

We all live a different lifestyle, our individual way of living each day.

Quality of life, it can change in a flash, an accident, disaster, disease,

Life is a special gift, our quality of life means much to us, to live or exist.

How good is life when you feel sick or can’t enjoy your daily activities,

We all have or will one day acquire those things, ailments that will limit us.

Appreciate the health you have and run, play, see everything while you can.

Keith Garrett

THE GREATEST GIFT

What is a gift, a wrapped present for a birthday,

Wedding poems from those who do in fact love.

Watch as the sun rises each day, feel its warmth,

Feel the wind all around you, breathe the air.

See as the rain falls upon the plants and trees,

Look to the sky and wish you could touch the moon and stars.

The ocean wanders all around, listen as it roars,

Put your feet in the sand, laugh a little more.

The mountains are a beautiful sight, touch them,

The desert is another wonder to behold, open your eyes.

The greatest gift I wonder, might it be the compassion of others, the care of friends,

I thought of this today as I felt stress and fear,

There are many good things, the miracles of the Winter are some.

The greatest gift of all is a breath of life every day.

Keith Garrett

PUT THE GUNS AWAY

Listen closely to this story as I see it, from a very long time ago,

In 1132 the Chinese knew about gunpowder, a tool, no, a weapon.

The first handheld gun was called an arquebus then, of course, the musket,

Many men had to try something, the invention of the rifle, the shotgun.

Congratulations! if they were used only for hunting but no, good became evil,

To this day they’ve been used for much criminal activity, too hurt and kill.

What happened to the days when they were used to feed your family,

Then came the sports hunter, killing just for the prize, a head hung high.

The police have them so that they can stop the ones who shouldn’t,

Children are using them every day in other countries just to survive.

The bullets ring out from the years no longer here, guns don’t die,

Guns don’t kill, people kill people because of fear, anger, and stupidity.

The noise needs to stop, it has put many a human being in their graves,

Unload your weapons, they’ll sing out in heaven, put the guns away.

War after war with much more advanced weaponry that will destroy,

In the end, there will be no more world, put the guns away.

Keith Garrett

PUPPETS AND CLOWNS

Dressed up each day in what we are to where for the man,

For work not for play, everyday survival, an outfit, our costume.

A ritual practiced, obey fore to be compensated,

With the printed paper handed to us so that we are of worth.

We’re to let them pull our strings, dance and put on a certain face,

Puppets and clowns humiliating and a sad disgrace.

We’re to have no real thoughts of our own,

Speak so that they do not hear,

Put on an act for those who are made up of power, false power.

Puppets and clowns, puppets and clowns, are we they,?

Turn it around, is the world upside down, we have no strings,

We dance for no one, only for fun.

Keith Garrett

“PROMISES”

Blood of a man spills from a wound created,

From a wonderful heart runs blood unseen.

Broken will be our spirits by those we trust,

These are the words of men with no morality.

Promises are made with the slip of a tongue,

Easily spoken from minds without thought.

Hearts and souls, those with no dreams,

They take what they can, from their hands they squeeze.

Promises, promises, words with no character,

From those with no heart, broken, always broken.

Keith Garrett

POOL OF FIRE

Molten Lava, boiling flame, bathtub of hell,

Power so fierce rests below a mountain of death.

How long has it stood on a foundation of heated anger,

A pool of fire waits to touch the surface, it has no mercy.

Explodes without warning, rising, shooting into the waiting sky,

Flowing like a river, down where it takes away that which is in its evil path.

Volcano by name, a hollow mountain of liquid pain,

Erupt wicked mountain, show your hidden face.

Keith Garrett

THROUGH THE SNOW WITH YOU

Riding in this sleigh pulled by horses of white and brown,

With you sweet darling getting lost and never found.

The sky mostly cloudy, cold as the snow begins to fall,

Next to you feeling so warm, to each other a smile.

There’s a house in the distance, a fire burning inside,

Smoke from the chimney as we ride on by.

Just me and you, a dream come true, just me and you,

The trees are silent, run horses, run into the afternoon.

Together is what we do, through the snow with you.

Keith Garrett

POETRY IN MOTION

Always walking, consistently moving along or active,

Constantly thinking, analyzing things and people around.

It’s motion that keeps my body and mind alive and running,

It can only stop if I stop, I’m a man in motion.

Writing about the world and those in my mind, my wondering mind,

Has given me sight, the ability to visualize and better understand.

Words have no meaning without the mind to interpret definition,

Poetry is song and emotion without instrumental sound.

A combination of these now lives in me, words I write,

Motion I have, I am poetry in motion.

Keith Garrett