PUPPETS AND CLOWNS

 Dressed up each day in what we are to wear 
 For the man,

 For work not for play, every day 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                                     


                 ON THIS MOUNTAIN

 As a child he lived here many years before,

 The great depression was not a time of all 
 Pleasant things.

 It was however a time of childhood, a sunset for some,

 There was a family of fathers and mothers, sons and 

 A boy was he of seventeen, a dreamer, a writer,

 He had nothing but he had also everything.

 On this mountain in Virginia, he was born,

 So many days ago, long gone are they now.

 He wrote his many thoughts by a lamp in the night,

 Played games with his brothers and sisters.

 Together this family sat together for dinner each night,

 A lifetime ago is when this story was told.

 By a boy who with his family struggled but did laugh
 As they

 Were blessed with much love and togetherness,

 On this mountain, once upon a time.

                            Keith Garrett


               MAY I HAVE A DRINK OF WATER?

 In search of water, will i have to travel any 

 The Summer is quite hot and i am very thirsty.

 For granted we have taken the rain that fills 
 The lakes,

 See the lakes as they sink lower, a hole in the 
 Ground one day.

 The waterfalls so beautiful fall down with cool 
 Splashes we see,
 Watch as they trickle, drying up, no more will 
 They be but a dream.

 Rivers and streams are places of beauty  that 
 Never cease to be,

 Take a look as before your eyes they slowly dry 
 And go forever away.

 May I have a drink of water, will it ever again rain, 
 What happened to the rain?

 If ever again a cloud in the sky, pray that drops of 
 Water don't pass us by.

                      Keith Garrett                                     


                  FROM 18 UNTIL THIS DAY

 Much younger was I back when the sun rose much 
 Higher in the sky,

 Still but a teenager as once a thought that I 
 Might have been a man.

 When I was eighteen I was going to the beach, 
 Dreaming about life ahead,

 Long blonde hair and searching for that always 
 Wanted summer tan.

 The sun begins to move west and I go beyond those 
 Teen years,

 I follow the sun, it looks down upon me each  
 Morning Then I chase it.

 I walk the road, I live my life, the sun travels 
 Further than I can run,

 The  more I follow then the older I seem, I have 
 dreamed, No more eighteen.

 I am older than some friends once were, older than a 
 Father gone far away,

 From 18 until this day I have changed in different 
 Ways, The sun now half way.

                               Keith Garrett                          


                I AM A BEE!

 In the Spring and Summer you'll find me around,

 Even In the Fall I am found.

 Flying and buzzing Is not the only thing that I do,

 My love for making honey Is so very true.

 My quest Is not to sting though my reputation Is this,

 Just like you, to survive and be left alone Is my wish.

 Many cousins' to me In this world,

 Different are they, this I will say.

 They all slap at me, run away, and scream,

 If only I could laugh then they would hear me.

 What frightens' them, I'm so small you see,

 I'm tiny, I'm fragile, I'm only a bee.

                            Keith Garrett                               


                     FANTASY WORLD

 In a world I can not Imagine, Is where she lives,

 Beautiful, dressed In a costume of unusual thought.

 Around her exists' things' of created Imagination,

 From a dream of futuristic worlds' discovered.

 She Is unknown, a name of secrecy to all beings',

 A vision of a warrior princess among a land of 
 Certain Fantasy.

 A way of life not known or understood by humans' 
 of this world,

 She dreams', she lives In a fantasy world.

           eith Garrett                     



 He pins on a badge, watches over his town,

 Makes his stand against outlaws of the gun.

 Saddles his horse, gun belt strapped on tight,

 Leads a possee, chases those on the run,

 A lawman is he from sun till sun.

 Not a medal is handed for the life he will give,

 He upholds the law in his long ago town,

 Bandits and killers, he'll hunt them down.

 Lawman for the people, for those whom are of good,

 He knows of his worth, he needs no reward.

                       Keith Garrett


               I DREAMED I WAS A CHILD

 There was a place, there was a child, was it real,
 Why was he crying?

 A street, a neighborhood, a school where laughter lived, 
 Clowns on a wall.

 Duck, duck, goose and a circle of friends, round, and 
 Round, They ran,

 A boy named Grover, swing sets and a dream, I walk there 
 It seems.

 A small boy, lonely in his thoughts, a dreamer of things 
 Not to be thought,

 Monsters under the bed, who peeks in the window above 
 his frightened head.

 I dreamed I was a child but who is it I be, a fathers 
 Son from yesterday,

 A child trapped in a place that does not let go, cartoons 
 And sounds of planes.

 Reality was but a moment, childhood innocence and magic 
 Slips away,

 Where were you little girl when my October drifted into 

 Imagination and ice cream trucks playing musical tunes 
 For a dime,

 Warm Summer days lost in a mans' child dreaming eyes.

 It rests in cobwebs, it quietly waits for my return,

 A place hidden from my mind, it watches, it knows 
 What I have seen.

                            Keith Garrett 


                   I BECOME REAL

 I am fantasy, I come to life in dreams in the night,

 I am not real, a made up story created from a pen.

 A cartoon, monster, fables, or nursery rhymes,

 I become real with the Imagination from a mind.

 Superheroes and Frankenstein do not walk the streets,

 Magic spells, wizards, and wooden boys are not really 

 I become real when the world is a scary place to see,

 All things that are Impossible are me when you believe,

 I become real when what you pretend does never end.

                        Keith Garrett


                    I AM SEVEN

 I chase butterflies and try to get moths from vines,

 Model airplanes are a hobby done with my dad,

 A vegetable garden out back, chasing the Ice cream man.

 Coloring books and cartoons on a Saturday morning 
 Is fine,

 A favorite cereal, lucky charms, and Frostio's a 
 Pop tart in my mind.
 Watching the Little Rascals, the three stooges, other 
 Favorite shows,

 Toaster pizzas and a glass of milk on a T.V. tray on a 
 Late summer day.

 Riding my bike, through sprinklers we ran in the sun, 
 A day for fun,

 I am seven as I would someday remember, walking in the 
 Breeze, climbing trees.

 I go to school, walk as I dream, I am a child of nineteen 
 Sixty nine, I am me,

 I run and play at recess with special friends who I will 
 Soon never see again.

 My world is different when I am seven, no worries of the 
 Future, Only a child's day,

 There is a magical side  to my life today, what will I 
 Remember of my time in a place?
                          Keith Garrett