VOICES

Around us we hear those whom speak,

Words and phrases to others whom will hear.

So many different tones from mouths each day,

Softly spoken or In a deep mean way.

Talking a lot Is a way for some,

Fast and unclear Is another way too.

We hear many voices as we spend our day,

Talking about their lives and crying about their pain.

Voices are heard singing songs,

Which makes us happy and bring our emotions outside.

On the phone there are voices, to us spoken words,

We can’t even see them but still they are heard.

Without voices we will not be heard,

If we are not heard then there Is silence.

Keith Garrett

UNDER AN OAK TREE

Breezy is the day, spring is in the air,

Sunny is the way, a few clouds in the sky.

Sitting by the river, peaceful as can be,

A picnic with you, on a blanket, under an oak tree.

Shady and cool, what a beautiful way to play,

A little music to our ears, this is our day.

Listen to the birds, they sing in the wind,

Butterflies float from here to there.

A time of pleasure, moments without care,

Do you remember a time when this was you,

I remember Springs so long ago, I remember you.

Keith Garrett

WHEN WILL THERE BE JUSTICE

I saw a small child today, ten years old,

Beaten and raped, she wondered why.

There is evil in the world, I’m sorry young girl,

Two men who did this are only but trash you see,

They were punished so quickly, the ultimate price I agree.

A father of a sweet, little, black girl, he killed with much rage,

Now a criminal for protecting, is vengeance not at times good.

There is a fine line between what is right and sometimes wrong,

A man whom was desperate without hope is now behind bars,

When will there be justice, fore what is right and maybe wrong.

Keith Garrett

WHEN THERE IS A KNOCK

Knock! knock! knock! at your door, who can it be? not sure,

Unforms worn to show their identity, a disguise this may be.

When they are not whom they appear to be, what might happen is scary,

Do not just open your door, be sure before you become no more.

When there is a knock, a face of a stranger appears on the other side,

A smile of sincerity or perhaps an evil one who preys on the trusting.

When there is a knock, think twice before you gladly open your door,

Friend or foe, it is hard to know anymore as they approach from out there.

Keith Garrett

WHEN MAN BROKE HIS PROMISE

I would say from the beginning the wrong decisions were made,

Starting with what was said not to be, a mistake from Adam and Eve.

When man broke his promise nothing ever could be the same,

Punished might we be, certainly if you in your heart do believe.

Almost as if a curse has been put upon the world, he is watching,

When man broke his promise he did punish himself in many a way,

He did not at one time listen, today continues on that same path of destruction.

When man broke his promise the world did change, never to be what might be.

Keith Garrett

ON THIS, MY MOUNTAIN

My life spent here for many a year,

Born in a cabin, my childhood chasing dreams.

Seasons of many I watched as the trees grew tall,

Winters of snow, Springs of flowers, Summers and Falls.

Family and friends have passed through time,

The sky stays the same, the wind does not change.

Animals come to life as they too grow old,

The rain falls, the sun rises and sets as it always has.

On this, my mountain an old man I do stand,

It does not touch the sky higher, does not lay down and die.

Once belonged to another, again to many a man,

On this, my mountain, i’ll forever be part.

Keith Garrett

On this, my mountain, i’ll forever be part.

Keith Garrett

SINGERS OF A LOST TIME

Chubby Checker had the peppermint twist,

Chuck Berry sang out Maybelline.

Jerry Lee Lewis screaming, great balls of fire,

It was Buddy Holly and Peggy Sue.

Johnny Cash, his song walk the line,

Elvis Presley belting out Jailhouse Rock.

Rick Nelson was the Travelin’ man,

The big Bopper with his Chantilly Lace.

Richie Valenz yelling out La, Bamba,
Nancy Sinatra and a tune of boots.

petula Clark going downtown,

Patsy Cline singing softly with crazy.

Janis Joplin giving a piece of my heart,

Grace Slick chasing white rabbit.

The Beatles with Hey Jude,

Pat Boone echoing out April love,

Little Richard pounding out Long Tall Sally.

Jim Morrison feeling rider on the storm,

Jimmi Hendrix In a world of purple haze.

Robert Plant on his Stairway to Heaven,

Eric Clapton, After Midnight or Wonderful tonight,

Singers of a lost time, they come to mind.

Keith Garrett

SHE TRAVELED A TRAIN

A different era, nineteenth century woman, what does she see,

On a trip far away, she’ll travel across a country never before seen.

On a locomotive made of steel, roaring and whistling down the track,

A window seat will be the perfect spot for this adventure to a new land.

The things she would see along the way would be wonderful and a bit scary,

Across the land of wilderness, what’s out there, an Indian village at peace.

Wagon trains of travelers headed for that land of hope where they might prosper,

She sees towns that once were, slowly died and moved on to where life again was.

Passed by towns that were booming with life, men and women seeking their fortune,

She passed by towns where families worked the land, came together during hard times.

So much did she see, this woman from another century, she traveled a train.

Keith Garrett

” THIS LIFE”

The sun rises to an unforgiving day, what preys’,

Sympathy has no smile, It does not walk my way.

Faces of lies speak to me, satan In their eyes,

Spirit In the sky takes a grip of my hand, strength.

This Is a mans’ land, not of pure and good,

This life, this life of mine Is an alone adventure.

Words’ pour out of their mouths’ like water so dirty,

Only sounds’ do I hear, unrecognizable to these ears.

They try so hard to take this heart, they cannot steal,

I’m reminded of the hurt they know I feel, not unreal.

This life, this life takes If It sees a smile and happiness

When It knows It’s In me.

Keith Garrett

THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

More than forty years ago out there among some hills sat a town.

Already quite old but new to another generation brought together.

It was a place where as kids we could run in the fields, explore the hills.

I remember an old stagecoach laid over in a ditch, why was it there.

Those hills were beautiful and a great place for many adventures I recall.

Now most of them are gone or disappearing with years of man’s destruction.

I will say that I have walked or passed through every street in my time there.

The old neighborhood is now much older as I have walked where once walked,

stood in spots where as a boy once stood, shadows are now larger from trees

that were so many years ago young and now much bigger and older I see.

Watching streets form that were not there, houses rising from the ground

that never were there, now more than forty years have passed as they have aged.

Ghostly images remain of friends whom did ride skateboards, talk at school,

Hang out at a doughnut shop that has vanished just as those special friends have

wandered into the future where today they rest scattered across many lands.

I remember when streets didn’t go through, when Boone’s Farm wine was cool.

7- Eleven, triple scoop for fifteen cents and pinball machines, streets of Yorba

were indeed a dream, the old neighborhood and all of you from back then.

If you’re still out there, somewhere around, let your voice be heard,

make a sound, the old neighborhood, my thoughts from a kid in a Yorba Linda town.

Keith Garrett