Walk a little while with me under heaven as god watches,

See the beauty of the world as he intended, walk with me.

Hand in hand, travel this path of life for just awhile and smile,

The sun shines upon us, the clouds have faces of their own.

In heaven all is special and wonderful, walk further with me,

Feel the wind as it follows behind and passes us by, i feel.

Where is it that we belong, where do we walk as we talk,?

Thoughts of prayer keep us company, hold my hand and walk.

The grace of love is given to few, everlasting love that is true,

Love and companionship may be shared between two without

A commitment of being joined together always, without pain.

I am this lonely soul who walks with an angel hand in hand,

Smile to smile as with you we’ll love and stroll along, walk awhile.

Keith Garrett

I’m here, blind at times to what’s around me waiting for myself to see,

Sitting here at this moment quiet with no soul to keep me company.

Feeling lonely but as i turn my eyes to this world, notice do i something,

There’s much life watching me, i never listen but now i can hear as what’s

Surrounding me is telling me something, it’s talking to me.

There stands a tree, its branches swinging in the wind like arms,

Leaves falling to the ground, nature brings it to life as i hear the sound.

The grass dances as a breeze travels on by singing as it says goodbye,

When i sit upon it a feeling it has as also this friend of green feels me.

On a shrub a bird sits and whistles in the sun,

Saying hello to it as away in the sky this bird flies.

There are bees buzzing around flowers of many colors and fragrances,

They leave me alone, i’m not alone.

What i want may not be, a little less lonely with what’s surrounding me.

Keith Garrett

” WINTER”

The bears begin their hibernation, plants slow down,

Shadows are seen across the mountains, they appear cold.

Trees are empty, naked without leaves, chilly days are here,

The sun shows its face in the morning a little later, to bed now early.

A time for some beautiful snow, a warm fire that gives a bright glow,

It’s Winter and Christmas will be here soon, a time of magic.

“SPRING”

As the temperatures rise just a bit, plants begin to awaken once more,

The sun shines brighter, the snow melts from the mountains everywhere.

Days are full of difference, warm or cold there’s new life all around,

It’s Spring! a walk in the park, a hike in the hills, stars in the clear night sky.

“SUMMER”

Warmer become the days, much warmer as the heat rises, the sun stays,

Rise to the morning, down to the beach where the breeze blows from the ocean.

Walk along the shore, feet in sand, above is the sky, blue with a mixture of clouds,

Camping, boat rides across the lake, sail beyond where an horizon line ends.

“FALL”

Days become slowly shorter, leaves falling from trees, colors of yellow, orange, green,

Fall, cooler weather, Halloween and trick or treat, a breeze is in the air, a change is here.

Thanksgiving is close, thoughts of pilgrims so long ago, turkey and a feast, celebrate,

Beautiful images in places where there really are four seasons to be looked upon.

Keith Garrett

Born quite a distance from civilized land, this man was,

In this place, these surroundings of still and quiet, lives he.

Immense sort of a man, bearded with scraggly hair,

Hunts for that which he eats, gun or knife in hand has he.

In weather hostile or friendly he makes his way, survives,

Cabin built of wood is where this loner dwells in silence.

Content to be in this place without another soul for company,

Whittling wood or the harmonica played is a passion of a man alone.

Fish that have been caught in a stream near by, fried up for dinner,

Eaten next to a fire that takes the chill from the night as he thinks.

On the porch settles this soul who exists in solitude enjoying the night,

Not so complete without the puff of smoke from his tobacco filled pipe.

As he speaks good night to all around, all that lives, he’s off to slumber,

Whom he is matters not, man of the woods, farewell.

Keith Garrett

The universe has been around us for so long no one knows,

Dinosaurs lived once upon a time, where does the time go.

The earth is old but to the cosmos young as a new born child,

How old is god, is he older than old.?

Oceans never stop moving, around the world they go,

How old are the oceans, how old, how old.?

Mountains stand together so high in the sky,

They’re not as old as the sun, how old is old.

If we live to be one hundred then we are very old,

In the scheme of eternity we are a speck of dust in the wind.

How old is old, a thought to ponder as we age day by day.

Keith Garrett

I walk the morning, the air has a chill and a breeze,

Out in the distance above the hills they float like balloons.

Shapes or sizes and colors of difference,

Splashed across the sky are painted clouds.

Vanish, they go away for a moment in time,

Reinvented, shapes from heaven above.

Pastel colors appeared in my sight,

Rays of light from the sun trying to peek through.

An invisible smile, a memory of a face sketched,

Forever in my mind eyes of beauty, a voice that echoes,

Through the clouds.

Keith Garrett

No memory have i of how this came to be,

Lost and alone, just me and the sea.

Day after day, across endless water,

Above only the sky and the seagulls that fly.

Get by do i with only little water and food,

Maybe a hope and a prayer that it may get me through.

In the distance perhaps a dolphin or whale,

My imagination is running wild.

Thinking of what’s below me scares me some,

Loneliness is worse fore nobody listens.

A dream am i having or my personal hell,

Until the end of this i’ll not be able to tell.

Up ahead, what is it that i see,

My hope and prayer is answered to me,

No longer will i be, adrift at sea.

Keith Garrett

I lived lifetimes ago on farmland worked with hands, a man’s hands,

A family we were, my wife, children, and animals for pets, back in time.

Possibly i went by the name of Sam, a man of principles, of beliefs,

My children may have been raised to believe in the lord, to respect.

If a wife i did have then she might have been a beautiful woman,

She would have been a great cook and a fine and descent person.

Imagine there would have been much love in our home,

Working hard from sunrise till sunset would have been this family.

Friends and neighbors with names now vanished into a memory,

A town that may have existed but no longer alive, a long time ago.

I may have been known as Sam from a long time ago, maybe so,

Land i may have owned and worked my fingers to the bone.

It’s possible this man of beliefs had a family that he loved so much,

I could have had children of which grew up and had families too.

To a man named Sam who may have lived a long time ago,

Whom may have lived with a loving wife, children, and had

Many caring and good friends, if i had known you from a long time ago.

Keith Garrett

What’s a writer, One whom picks up a pen or types out stories,

Poems from the heart, words put together about worldly dreams.?

A great writer is to the world one whom creates the best poems and stories,

The one who does finish each writing is to me great fore they have created.

There are great writers in history, Mark Twain, Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson,

They had their own style, thoughts, and the way that they saw the world.

Who can say that we as writers are or aren’t great, we write and i say we are,

I have my own style and thoughts, i write from my heart, I am a writer!

I believe that my writing touches the hearts, souls, and minds of those who read,

I don’t have a famous name but it’s as good as any, I am Keith Garrett and i write.

My writing is my own, I have over two thousand poems that i share daily with you,

I hope they touch your day, know that yours does the same, we are great in our own way.

Keith Garrett

Dressed for battle, he stands ready to fight, the warrior,

Fear lives within him fore this emotion brings wisdom.

Strong, as he fights for that which he believes,

A lonely way of life but a man makes a choice, a stand.

A family, not in this souls plans, born to walk alone,

This chosen way that may haunt is just a house of cards.

It’s not said that a bad man is he, quietly the sun rises for him,

This path chosen, a quiet one if those choose to let it be not a fight.

Always ready for battle, though silently lives in the shadows,

This wanting to be left in peace man is a warrior on his own.

Keith Garrett