From the middle sixties the doors were made,

Four long haired boys from Venice would show the way they could play.

The voice of this band with a moaning pain to his sound,

Was a genius as he sang the poetry that came from within.

A noise that groans from the instrument that he played,

The groups guitarist, still here today.

Great on the Organ, he played with a wail,

Back from a time when music was wild,

Ray Manzarek in heaven, back together with Jim.

Steady on the drums with a beat that goes on,

Their drummer was he, not yet has he gone.

Roaring out his songs with the magic of their music,

Dance on fire, break on through is what this man would say to you.

He sang his poetry with an unknown rage,

Intense and highly emotional is the impression he made.

A place once visited by this poet some use to know,

Many years from here, the whisky- a- Go-Go.

I won’t be around forever he would say,

Jim left the planet on a warm Summer day.

Jim Morrison, Robby Krieger, Ray Manzarek, John Densmore.

By Keith Garrett

Chubby Checker had the peppermint twist,

Chuck Berry sang out Maybelline.

Jerry Lee Lewis screaming, great balls of fire,

It was Buddy Holly and Peggy Sue.

Johnny Cash, his song walk the line,

Elvis Presley belting out Jailhouse Rock.

Rick Nelson was the Travelin’ man,

The big Bopper with his Chantilly Lace.

Richie Valenz yelling out La, Bamba,
Nancy Sinatra and a tune of boots.

petula Clark going downtown,

Patsy Cline singing softly with crazy.

Janis Joplin giving a piece of my heart,

Grace Slick chasing white rabbit.

The Beatles with Hey Jude,

Pat Boone echoing out April love,

Little Richard pounding out Long Tall Sally.

Jim Morrison feeling rider on the storm,

Jimmi Hendrix In a world of purple haze.

Robert Plant on his Stairway to Heaven,

Eric Clapton, After Midnight or Wonderful tonight,

Singers of a lost time, they come to mind.

Keith Garrett

Above from the wide open sky the sun shines ever so bright,

Will it warm our world always or one day say a farewell.?

What if the wind that we feel but can’not see goes away,

Will it again below across the hills and make the trees sway.

The glowing moon sits like a lighthouse in the sky,

Watching, always watching but for how long will it rise.?

The rain falls from the sky, from the clouds that drift on by,

Will the drops take from the earth the thirst so as not to die.

See the animals run through the woods and across the plains,

Today they live somewhat free, tomorrow will they be.?

We live, we love, dance to the music, sing from our hearts,

Search for the happiness that makes it all worth living.

There are things that may be never, things never lost,

Nothing lasts forever fore forever we are not.

Keith Garrett

Lost was i within the snowy landscape of the Alaskan wilderness,

Crashed did i my plane into the chilly waters, lucky to be alive.

Made my way from the water, freezing, a few items salvaged,

Matches sealed in a bag were at this moment my only friend.

Managed with a lot of work to get a small fire going under a tree,

Cold and alone i wondered what would become of me, tired am i.

Starting to drift into sleep, cracking of branches startled me,

When i looked up, appeared to my eyes fear, a bear silently standing there.

I couldn’t move, the bear just stared, turned and walked away,

This can’not be as it must be a dream, what does this mean.?

Sleep did visit me, when i awoke i was not scared, a fish lay at my feet,

In the distance the bear watched me, i cooked then ate, he walked away.

I noticed his path the same way, he roared out as if speaking to me,

I was not afraid as i followed him up the hill, he stared and then disappeared,

In front of me, over the hill sat a town alive with people, the bear.

Keith Garrett

In the evening light i know she is there in the crowded square,

Her face i can’not see although her beautiful hair dances in the breeze.

Maybe it’s been awhile but the scent in the air reminds me of her,

I make my way to where she stands, vanishes as never there.

From these eyes what do i see, turning around she approaches me,

You’ve been away, you’ve been gone for awhile, i dream of your smile.

I’ve listened so long for the sound of your voice, only the wind,

Where did you go when you went away, from these eyes i did not see.

You faded away into a memory, yet my darling you still exist,

There is in front of me two roads, one is of a better day.

She stares at me and wonders why i found her in this place,

From these eyes I’ve seen many things, from these eyes there is you.

We stand together in the dark of night seeking the right words to speak,

Wondering if together we’ll walk or lonely we go our own way.

Everyone’s gone, the moon rises full on a clear, Summers night,

From these eyes i watch you staring at me, staring at me.

Keith Garrett

It’s been many seasons since a pen in hand has written a first,

A poem about dark times, running from everything horrible.

Today maybe a fantasy poem or something about a dream,

In between the world i have seen, traveled within my mind.

Hear from me all the great and wonderful places i have been,

Listen as i also tell you of sadness and hiding from the world.

I’ve been to the moon, seen the universe from a different view,

Climbed the top of mountains, across the ocean to many lands.

From a long time ago, i have traveled to places of farms and the old

I’ve seen monsters, things of legends and scary stories told.

Sleigh rides through the snow, to the north pole i have flown,

I have seen the boss on stage singing songs of my choice and desire.

I have been everywhere and seen everything, i have traveled with the wind,

I have ridden with cowboys across the open range, another time and place.

Free to be, many poems written in a world that only i can only see.

Keith Garrett

About a land so far across the sea, stories of knights from days lost,

Castles of stone standing through centuries of tales told, those whom know.

Kings and queens ever since this Island was discovered back in a dream,

Magical wizards are fables of men said to them as a child long ago.

Those dressed in armor, a King by the name of Arthur and a sword,

A legendary table of round sat Knights so long ago on shores unseen.

Princes and princesses dancing at parties of royalty in a far off land,

Common men and women lived together and begged for food, a hand.

Woods of old England, warriors and Knights with bows and swords,

Mystical dreams of times, of shores unseen, a book of tales.

Along the river, lakes of swans gliding across the mirrored glass,

Over the hills where the whispering winds watch the grass dance.

In the English night sky, through the known expected fog of the land,

A rising moon shines its glowing light upon the trees, upon these shores.

Seasons of many centuries witnessed by a people with voices of sound,

Sir Lancelot dressed for battle riding high upon a dark horse into forever.

Dragons of fantasy flying through the sky, wings spread, soaring,

Breath of fire it is told they possess, demons brought to life in a dream.

Legends of many moons long since past, ghosts of heroes wander in mist,

Mystical dreams of shores unseen, songs sung in green meadows,

A beautiful sound from voices such a long time ago.

Keith Garrett

You can find him, if you go far off into these hills,

Way back beyond the green grass and rocky slopes.

Oak trees of many years hide what has been here for awhile,

Come closer so you can observe this shack built ages ago.

Once it may have been of fine wood as today it is withering away,

A home with no plumbing, no modern conveniences of the day,

The roof is worn, dried out from many days and nights of being here.

There lives in this shack a man, not a youthful man by any means,

Left in peace to live out his remaining days is this man in the shack.

We don’t know where he comes from or if he’s had a family, a wife, kids,

We do know that he’s had a life, this man in the shack has his story.

Keith Garrett

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 wonering,

The father stepped from behind the altar, a true miracle as did his son with life.

Keith Garrett

Where have i seen you, have i seen you before, how is it i know you,

Do you recognize this forever searching man as he seeks the path.?

I’ve strayed away from where it is i belong, not as lost as before,

Show me the kind hearted one who will walk with me as i search.

I’ve discovered and I’ve lost but throught it all much has been gained,

The miracle i have sought has not been for me granted at this time.

But perhaps a gift not chosen is the right and chosen gift handed to me,

Prayed have i for peace, happiness, and love, i watched for it day and night.

Do i not listen and am i possibly a bit clouded in these eyes of mine,

Are these things of want circling me always as my heart is closed.?

I’ve taken a step back from those whom may show care and concern,

I’m unsure and confused of which are friend or foe, how will i know.?

Some of those whom mean the most to me are not here, do not appear,

I am here, sometimes a little bit lonely, i await a soul who might care.

Keith Garrett