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





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



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




Walking along the road with you alone,

Under the sky of a Winter cold.

Beneath the leafless trees all covered with snow,

A chilly storm that visited last night.

The woods are empty except for the deer we see,

Beyond there are hills of white layered blankets.

Further, in the distance, mountains are a sight,

Down from the sky, snow of white.

A Winters stroll just you and I, hand in hand,

A flowing river of Icy cold, where does it go.

Walk with me through this beautiful place,

We stroll along to a cloud covered lake.

Listen to the wind, miracles surround,

Winter is here, Icicles hang from rocks above.

It may be cold but a warm feeling within,

A Winters stroll, just you and me.

Keith Garrett



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




Winter falls upon us, the winds of cold blow,

Leaves have fallen from the now naked trees.

Thoughts of miracles are a snow falling dream,

Angels dance in the sky and comfort the night.

Musical sound echoes from heaven,

The strumming of harps, harps of heaven.

Above the clouds, beyond the sparkling stars,

Where there is no cold, no sorrow day to day.

Play those harps, let the beauty of peace be heard,

Let the spirits rejoice as eternal life is beautiful.

Upon us are worldly pleasures,

Listen for the harps of heaven.

Keith Garrett




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