BACK TO YESTERDAY

There was a place, many places of my yesterday,

Far back in a place of snowy woods, a child so young.

Superman, batman, bicycle, and a tree swing once was,

Remembering the summer sun where a small boy would run.

Back to yesterday, another town to roam around, I found,

Headed for the future as my thoughts travel to a yesterday,

As life and time move ahead, cobwebs are more where I began.

I have moved, aged in a few different ways, tomorrow always has a yesterday,

My eyes open to a miracle morning, miracle being another day.

Keith Garrett

AN UNCERTAIN AMERICA

Crime in the streets, it goes on in the day and by dark of night,

Anger and mistrust are now an epidemic of disease running wild.

Shooting guns are everywhere, open your eyes, beware as the enemy is here,

We are hated but laughed at all around this spinning globe, we are weakening, they know.

It is us who are deadlier, more dangerous than those who surround and invade,

Standing together we pretend, we are each one on our own, make no mistake, we are alone.

Our lives matter but only to us, there is no high power who cares if we survive or turn to dust,

Can you see it? everyday the horror encircles our American way, we slowly decay, soon to go away.

An uncertain America where the flag moves slowly down, shredding a little each day,

Something wicked is coming soon our way, be well prepared with trust only in yourself.

Keith Garrett

AN ACT OF FAITH

Is there trust in yourself, what trust in others,

How far would you walk for another, what would you give?

Are you of a good heart even if in the end there is no reward,

Do you expect something in return for putting your life on the line?

Would you run out in the street to save a child or one in a burning car,

Is it a question of a moral value, fear and life is a thought that comes to mind?

An act of faith, would you take a chance, do anything for friend or man,

Would you give of yourself if there could become a certain end?

Keith Garrett

A SMALL HOUSE

Along the banks of a river, is home,

Apple trees and hills of grass live here.

A small house for a family of people,

Food on the table and a fire burning warm.

Sitting on the porch, a fiddle in hand I am,

A pipe to smoke is an evening kind of thing.

Horses are down for the night, children in our sight,

Nineteenth century life is quite a fight.

A small house is all we need to believe,

Hopes and dreams are seen as far as our eyes can see.

Keith Garrett

“SISTER”

It was only what seemed liked yesterday, a little girl,

You ran around with that pretty girl smile, playing with dolls.

Not much of a care in the world as all things seemed so magical,

Your mother was always there when you skinned a knee or shed a tear.

On a playground at school running carefree with friends till day’s end,

“Sister” to brothers who were always around if ever you needed them.

Valerie, born into this world a tiny, baby girl, mystery of life and beginning for you,

I remember you back then, “sister” of my childhood friends, dark haired girl.

It may not seem so but some Angels came to see you some time ago, sent just for you,

They were there last night, sat with you until the morning’s light, they were there,

When It was time to let go they guided you away, a smile on your face as you journey to a place,

” Sister” you were loved by many, memories will fill their hearts till you are seen again.

For her family,

Keith Garrett

A PAINFUL MEMORY

Our minds remember, a picture or scenes from the past,

A reel to reel movie that for a lifetime lasts, beautiful and sad.

Scars are formed from many types of pain, a reminder of your days,

We take a look backwards of the steps we take, where we played.

A painful memory is more than one, It may reshape us into something strong,

If we can’t learn from a lesson taught, it may be we wander in circles of not.

A painful memory has found us all, we stand to experience and remember the fall,

It is a hurtful thing that follows us through, a painful memory as we live each day new.

Keith Garrett

A HEARTBEAT

Listen to my heartbeat, thump, thump, It beats,

Blood runs through it, listen to me as I breathe.

A heartbeat means life, It beats fast or slow,

Thump, thump, it goes, a heartbeat that slowly grows old.

It speaks of who I am, only one of a kind,

Listen, thump, thump, with a hand to my chest feel as I am alive.

A heartbeat lets us know that this moment is still ours,

Hear it pound, listen to its beautiful sound.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, one beat at a time,

A heartbeat so precious, thump as it beats one more time.

Keith Garrett

A LONER OF A MAN

He saw the sun but when the sun went down,

He wanted nothing more of that which was around.

Heading for the great Colorado Rocky mountains said he,

I will not be back until I see a land of eternity.

A long time ago, this man not many would know,

As for the few, he treated them with kindness, they would not forget.

A loner of a man, no choice to love and care, an inherited family,

Because he did help another kind, they took from him the love in his life.

He wanted to be alone and he learned to care, again only pain and despair,

A mountain man you see, he had a life, until life met eternity.

Keith Garrett

A HORSE CALLED STORM

Jet black, tall and strong, he stands in the morning light,

Out in the grass land roams this free spirit.

Never ridden, not a man calls him theirs,

Answers to not a soul does this horse left alone.

His name is storm, dark as the night,

Moves like lightning, sounds like thunder.

Fierce and at times mean is this beast,

Untamed by man, natural and free.

He is friends with each day, land where he runs,

A horse called storm standing in the sun.

Keith Garrett

1969

I was a child in 1969, I had not a clue of the world,

I knew of certain things, those of which I lived through.

Riding my bike and a deadly Halloween night, that’s right,

I remember all that I did as a kid, a lifetime ago and a family,

Vietnam was a reality and I was protected by my childish world.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, Clint Eastwood was the man,

Raindrops keep falling on my head, Simon and Garfunkel were grand.

Scooby Doo and all of the colorful cartoons that I knew, I think of you,

Baseball with the miracle mets, Bill Russell and the champion Celtics,

Joe Namath with his Guarantee, the Jets beat the Colts, Charles Manson and history.

The Innocence of the Brady Bunch, walk on the moon, Led Zeppelin and a tune,

1969 was the year when love and innocence was mixed with my day.

Keith Garrett