A CHAMPION YOU ARE


  You tee off at dawn with club in hand,


  Swinging for your target, you take your stand.


  Giving up is not what you do,


  Eighteen holes, whatever it takes to make it through.


  Walking the course no matter how tired,


  Strength and fight are in you to win this match.


  On to another day, one more tee off,


  Again swinging that club till the end.


  Every sunst under par,  Always a champion you are.

                         Keith Garrett

                                                                             A CHANGING SEASON


                                                   Leaves of red and green, leaves turning brown,


                                           Leaves falling all around, they fall and touch the ground.


                                            Floating on down, wherever I'm walking, raining leaves,


                                          Suddenly a gentle breeze, blowing leaves beyond the trees.


                                               Nights showing up sooner as the days become shorter,


                                    Temperatures are dropping as the warmth of day, earlier goes away.


                                A changing season is constant and repeats itself with the changing years,


                              Beautiful become the emptying trees,  naked and alive without their leaves.


                                Slower does nature grow as soon getting ready to take that deserved rest,


                                          The animals are beginning to collect and store for what's next.


                                  A changing season sets in motion a cycle of  never ending energy and life.

                                                 Keith Garrett

  ECHOES AND SHADOWS


  When the wind blows there are echoes in time,


  Echoes of all that have passed on by.


  The sounds of a lifetime, listen as the children 
  Have grown,

  Echoes of voices lost with the emptying hourglass.


  There are the echoes of those who once lived,


  Laughter of young ones, now part of the wind.


  Shadows of the seasons, one by one, gone,


  Shadows remembered of a man standing in the sun.


  Shadows of trees that stood tall in the sky,


  Across mountain tops, shadows from morning 
  Till night.

  Echoes and shadows from the beginning of time,


  Time passed by, seen from many eyes.


                                         Keith Garrett 

                                   DANCE HALL GIRLS


   From a hard day's work they come to town,


  Out on the range, from their farms, from the saddle.


  For a drink, a card game, or something to eat,


  They come to let off steam, music, and dance hall girls, 
  On this night in the heat.

  In dresses with smiles, it is their job to entertain,


  A drink with a cowboy, a fantasy for he.


  They drink and they gamble, dance with the girls,


  Hoping to spend a night not alone.


  Dance hall girls in an old western town,


   Men come from all over for the scent of perfume 
   And a smile.

                       Keith Garrett

                           A MAN WITH AN AX

  Wood needs to be chopped, it sits waiting, many 
  Types and sizes,

  Fall is in the air, chillier the air turns, work must 
  Be done.

   A job it is to chop enough wood to warm a 
  Home for the winter,

  Must be done, perhaps no fun as it is an 
  Accomplishment to be proud.

  Stack it in a pile, carry it piece by piece, chopped 
  And split wood for a fire,

  A smell, can you take it in, smell the aroma as it's cut, 
  Stronger it grows.

  A man with an ax gets this job done, he sweats from 
  Morning till the setting sun,

  Swinging an ax, working as the cold moves closer,

  The wood pile will rise higher.

  A man with an ax is strong and determined,


  He will succeed because he knows of its need,


  When it's done, a Winter of warmth,


  When the setting sun, he knows the job is done. 

              Keith Garrett

                         A WAND OF MAGIC

  In hand, a wand would make me a magic man,


  Not even a word and crime would disappear.


  I could stop time, rid the world of trash or pollution,


 Take away the sick waters of rivers and oceans.


  Murder on our land would be stopped with a hand,


  The ill would be no more, cancer but a memory.


   I could run fast or jump high,


  A tear would be one less for all of mankind.


  The cruel slaughter of creatures in the world,


   With a wave from my hand, this would end.


   A wand of magic need not be that of evil,


  For love and good, the hand that holds this wand.


   A wand of magic is not to be real,


  We can wish, hope, and pray, that it all goes away.

               Keith Garrett                                                     

                                   7 MINUTES


  We all have 7 minutes before something we
  Must do,


 The same time before work is done and time 
  To go home.


  7 minutes waiting or 7 minutes up, what be the 
  Circumstances,


  7 minutes in the shower, 7 minutes on the phone,



 7 minutes before dinner, another 7 minutes all alone.



  Time is of the essence, time never stands very still,



  7 minutes late just may save your life, right on time, 
  Goodbye.


   In only 7 minutes, from good to bad, your world has 
  Changed,


  Snooze for an extra 7 minutes, it may do you a world 
  Of good.


  7 minutes a long time to suffer, 7 minutes to love 
  And dream.
                               Keith Garrett

                     A PICTURE OF YOU


  Plenty of times I saw you, watched as you changed,


  A portrait of a baby, many years ago as time 
  Has aged it.

  As a child, you appeared a certain way, young 
  At play,

  From twelve to seventeen, a face that went 
  Gifferent ways.

  Twenty was a special year, your first child, a boy 
  Named Gary,

  Seven children as the years went by, your picture 
  Changed.

  Beyond eighteen or twenty five, seasons changed in 
  Your eyes,

  Mom! I miss you, I think I can hear you when I sleep 
  In the night,

  A picture of you rests in my sight, a picture of you in 
  A book that I write.

                               Keith Garrett

                         A THANK, YOU DEAR LORD


  It's me again, many thoughts swirl in my head,


   For this life you gave to me, i am most grateful.


   I wake each morning to the rain or shine,


  You've let me walk your worldly creation, i'm still 
  Alive.

  I forget at times and also for granted take,


  This life is precious, there's much good in the world.


   A thank you dear lord for the things given to me,


  The wonders of this land at times are hard to see.


   I'll try to remember that fragile is man,


   Speak to you soon, I keep trying to understand and 
  Be the best I can.
                    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 but 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