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
HE WOULD BUILD AN ALTAR
Nobody believed he would survive as he lay there dying inside,
This young boy of twelve shot by an evil man with no heart.
A father with a faith so strong would never give up on a son,
His family, friends, and a town were concerned about his behavior.
He took his son to a wide open field of green grass where he might heal,
Set up camp and began to pray while his son lay motionless, staring.
He would build an altar of stone with a cross placed upon the top,
Seen for miles by travelers, talk of this altar and father would also spread.
Night was falling, the sun setting, supper was ready, and a visitor would show,
An old man with a cane would ask, let me try as the boy would not take broth.
The old man asked, if he is not saved will you lose your faith,? No said the father,
The old man went behind the altar, the father followed and the old man was gone.
Nothing but distance all around, where could he have gone, the father believed,
The father now wore a beard as the next night a storm was forming, this be the night.
The old man appeared in the dark and told the father, go to the altar! now!,
Lightening struck the altar and the father fell to the ground, the night was done.
When morning came and the sun rose in the sky his family was there wondering,
The father stepped from behind the altar, a true miracle as did his son with life.
Keith Garrett
THE DUSTY TRAIL
Traveling through an untamed land, I travel,
All that I own packed upon my horse and wagon.
There’s a lot of quiet time thinking and looking,
As the day ends I set camp, a fire, supper, and my horse.
Noises of the night are owls, crickets, or the wind,
Lucky am I to hold this guitar in hand.
Feed my horse and off to bed for a little rest,
A gun close by as I sleep with an open eye.
Just call me bob as when the sun rises I’ll be gone,
A hot cup of coffee, a bite to eat, and off I go.
The dusty trail takes me to many places of sight,
I travel by day then it’s time to stop for a much wanted, peaceful night.
Keith Garrett
HE WAS A DOCTOR,
NOT GOD
He learned to heal as only a man can, he was human,
A womans husband dies, he loses faith in himself,
People he knew in a town also lose faith in a friend.
He was a doctor who did care about pain and suffering,
Angry at himself because he failed another, could not cure.
He was a doctor, not perfect in any way, not made of miracles,
He turned his back on his profession, he turned his back on himself.
He needed to figure it out, he went home, back to a simple life,
Working on his farm, away from the pain and death that ate at him.
This wasn’t who he was, down inside he was a healing man, a doctor,
What he realized, he was a doctor, not god.
Keith Garrett
NOTHING
At one time or another everything was nothing,
One day in time nothing would and will turn to everything.
Nothing is a word used in many ways, decay into nothing,
” You are nothing” can be a lifetime emotional scar that haunts.
What are you doing? a friend or child may respond with nothing!
I did nothing today, you must have done something, nothing can not be done.
Nothing can be so lonely, as it can not be seen, it does not have any dreams,
” I have nothing to live for” listen close, as we all have the greatest things to live for.
I was nothing until I met you, I was more than I thought before it was me and you,
Nothing is only a word, it is a sound that many a soul have heard with a word.
Keith Garrett
Like mystical knights from a time long since past, These three surviving warriors are back at last. A golden god wailing tunes that echo through our minds, With emotion to his a…
Source: MYSTICAL TUNES OF LONG AGO
“GRANDPA”
Let me tighten your brains, he would say,
I’ll give you a wallop, this way he would play.
Memories of a man, a dear and wise soul,
Italian all the way, left and went away some time ago.
A player of the cards, a trick or to win the game,
He worked in the shipyard, hard at it everyday.
Born in nineteen eighteen, Louis John Cordischi,
Remember with me, grandpa Louie,
He has a home in heaven, shared with loved ones today.
As I write these words of a man far away,
I see his face and his smile, his voice heard by me.
Keith Garrett
I go outside to the things i’ll see, A life of pain, not simple or free. I walk and wonder of what i’ll be, If i get old as the sea. There was a tim…
Source: REMEMBER ME
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
GHOSTS ARE WHERE?
I believe in ghosts, spirits that are here among us,
Do they wander all around us as we live and sleep.?
Sit at the edge of our beds talking to us while we dream,
Are they angry or sad, happy with smiles that last forever.?
Are their mean and evil ones that cause us pain while we sleep,
Maybe the unexplained events in our land are because of them.?
I think we have ghosts among us from many different centuries,
Possibly they visit a world they can never again live in, missing.
Do they trap themselves in a world where they no longer belong,
Afraid to move on to a new world, scared as they are not quite sure.?
Ghosts are where?, forever they wander between what we can not see.
Keith Garrett
