WHERE THE GEESE DREAM

 
   I think of a place, hidden from the world,


  A secret land, safe from mankind, still with beauty.


  Within these trees and plant life sits a lake like glass,


  So calm when the air is still, moves slowly within a breeze.


  There is a sound of peace here, frogs and fish move along 
  quietly,

  There is a mystery about this world, they come as one, never 
  Seen.

  A special place, left untouched by those who destroy what is 
  Beautiful,

  When you step into it you will be stunned by these
   Creatures of thousands.

 Here is where there is peace, this is where the Geese 
 Dream.
                  Keith Garrett

                              A BASEBALL DREAM    



   On a farm he grew up, the early days of the game,   



  A bat of his own was made from a tree that stood alone.    



  He had a name for his bat, a certain magic it contained,



  Circumstances would get in the way, a dream put aside.



  Disappeared without a trace until he arrived on a day,



  His special bat carried in hand, this was to be his last 
  chance.


  For only a moment he would stand beneath the lights,



  A baseball dream before he faded into the night.


                            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 were mixed with
  My day.

                                         Keith Garrett

                   1943 NICKEL


   A nickel I came upon, old is its age,


   Dirty and worn, 1943 had a name.


   When it was made, which first pocket did hold,


   A celebrity of movies or a farmer tired at night.


   Could it have been the great Joe Dimaggio, 


   As time went by possibly a singer or Olympian.


  A little boy had a nickel in his pocket, grew did he,


  A famous writer he became, a 1943 nickel, where 
  Could it be?

  Beyond seventy years this silver looking coin has traveled,


  Today it rests with me, who held onto it in 1943?

      Keith Garrett

                                       EASTER  BUNNY


  Where does he come from, this figure of folklore, 



  A symbol of Easter from many generations ago.



  This rabbit that brings Easter eggs during the night,



  Also called the "Easter Hare" Sometimes shown 
  Wearing clothes.


  As legend tells, he carried colored eggs in a basket, 
  Candy, and toys,


  To the homes of children who were good and obedient.



  Easter bunny, Easter bunny, I thought of you during the 
  night,


  A gift to me of a colorful Easter Basket, by morning's 
  Light.
             Keith Garrett

                       LEPRECHAUN


  A small, mischievous, Elf, dressed in green attire,


  Belts of black, boots perhaps of the same color.


  From Irish folklore, it has been said they have been

   Members of a clan, they invaded Ireland, banished 
  To live underground.

  Standing only two to three feet tall, these devious 
  Characters,

  Quick witted, Intelligent, they evade capture from 
  Humans.

  They live in underground caves with entrances or a 
  Hollow trunk of a fairy tree,

  It is said that wishes of three have been granted to
  Some that leave them be.

  They are known for their love of Irish music and dance, 
  Instruments played,

  Tin whistle, the fiddle, Bodhran, and the Irish harp, a 
  look with beards and pipes.

  Shoemakers they are, believed because of all the dance 
  They do,

  To catch one of the wee folk is nearly impossible as they 
  Are smart with magical powers.

  Vanish into thin air they can, a pot of gold is a most 
  Possible dream,

  You'll hear an Irish Leprechaun before you'll ever see one,


  They have a fondness for drinking Irish Poitin, catch one 
  if you can.
                               Happy St. Patrick's Day,

                                 Keith Garrett

                            YOU WERE MOM


  I can't quite remember when I first opened my eyes,


   From that moment you were always by my side, mother 
  Of mine,

  You held me when I was hungry, fed me as I drifted 
  Back to sleep,

  Made me feel secure, washed me and made sure I was 
  Always clean.

  When I woke from a scary dream, it was you who took away
  My fearful dreams,

  You were there when I was down, near and always around, 
  You were mom.

  You taught me about the things that I should know, about 
  The world as I would grow,

  You were a friend, companion, but most of all, you were my 
  Mother, you were mom.
                        
  Memories I will never forget, I would trade them all for 
  One more day, you went away,

  I will see you again in a different kind of land, you were 
  Mom, Thanks for all that you were.
                                       Keith