I CAN SEE TOMORROW!


   So clear to me, clear to see,


   Yesterday Is gone, gone away.


   Today will soon be In the past,


  It will be yesterday, I see this today.


  Tomorrow Is not yet here, this Is clear,


  When It comes, It will turn Into today,


   Soon disappear Into yesterday.


   I can see tomorrow, I see this today,


  Many things' to discover, what comes my way.


  What's out on the horizon, still a mystery,


  It moves forward Into my life, to be my today.


                                 Keith Garrett

                                FOLLOW THE RIVER


  Watching the water, as It flows' down stream,


  I walk Its' path, on either side.


  As the river turns, swaying from side, to side,


  The rushing water crashes, and throws' Itself at me


  As I make my way along.


  On my journey, past trees and hills,'


  Notice do I the bright sun, and big white clouds' 
  Passing me by.

  Follow, follow the river on a course chosen by Itself,


  Onward, downward, until such a place where the 
   Water lies still.
   I follow the river to a resting spot,


   Now, It Is time for this soul to sleep.


                                        Keith Garrett

                                            FLIGHT


 There up high, I stare to the wide open sky,


  Watch as I do, you circle round, and round.


  Free to fly, soar with the wind, I see you fly,


  What Is It that you see, as you drift through the air?


  Spread those wings' and sail, sail to anywhere,


  Beneath the stars,' under heaven above, fly.


  What the Lord has given to you Is the gift of flight,


  Fly away, fly away, get lost Into the night.


  Created were you, by he without a face,


  Spirit In the sky, will take you on a special flight.


  Make your journey, through the clouds' moving by,


  Into the sun, that shines from so far away.


  Finish your flight, goodbye, I say farewell, 


  Fly, fly far away.

                                      Keith Garrett 

                                FACES OF CLOWNS'


  Disguises are worn, they hide a world of fear,


  Hidden with colors' of false smiles, or frozen frowns.


  We laugh and we dance, juggle our thoughts' and 
  Emotions,

  Our world Is a cage, a circus of freaks' and 
  Entertainment.

  We challenge our own mortality, on a high wire, 
  We dance,

  Shot through a cannon to where we may land, 
  Life in hand.

  Faces of clowns', dressed In costumes, they seem 
  Secure,

  Acts put on for children, are they not the young that 
  Have tears.

  We dress In our own costumes, put on a face that 
  We choose,

  Is what appears' real, only a magicians' magic, a 
  Trick of sorts?

  Whatever expression we wear, whatever makeup 
  We're made of,

  Faces of clowns', we all live with faces of clowns'.


                                 Keith Garrett                                                        

                                DOES THE SKY DREAM?


  The sky Is always night, somewhere In our world,


  Does It dream as It sleeps, there where It rests.


  Awake as It does, to the morning sunlight,


  In another place, It goes to bed again for the night.


  There are friends,' all around this wide open space,


  That watch over each other, In Its' universe.


  Does the sky dream, always as It exists,


  What would It say, If to us It spoke?


                           Keith Garrett                

                                 DEEP FOREST


  Step Into reality, an exotic, and spectacular place 
  Of dreams,

  Realize this world of adventure, and things' not 
  to often seen.

  Somewhat dark, with a hint of light, beaming 
  Through the trees,

  Sounds all around, as the creatures of this land 
  Watch in the shadows.

  There's a misty haze that appears, as the night 
  Shows its face,

  So far away from the not so peaceful, deep forest 
  Of that which breathes.

 Leaves upon the ground, walking among life that 
  Speaks not a word we hear,

  With these feet, we make our way from a magical 
  Getaway of existence.

  This forest, a beautiful deep forest, hiding from 
  the outside,

  Lost In It, may be the heaven, the happiness, a 
  Garden of Eden.

                                         Keith Garrett  

                            DO YOU KNOW THESE PEOPLE?


  They are shadows of friends,' long since gone,


  They are men and women, friendly or not, they are.


  They stand there, co- workers, strangers not yet 
  Known,

  Husbands, wives, boyfriends, or girlfriends, past 
  And present.

  A chance there's a brother, sister missed for some 
  Time,

  Ghosts from memories of a long time ago, friend 
  Or foe.

  A mother or father, one for a while missed, the other 
  Forever,

  Once stood where you could see, now shadows In 
  Eternity.

  Do you know these people, can you recognize their
  Faces,

  From different times, and different places.


                                  Keith Garrett                       

                                CLEAR, CLEAR SKY

   What pictures' are there when a sky Is clear,


  Is It just emptiness, or a mind closed without 
  Imagination?

  Take a look, and Into It you'll see,


  What's beyond It, you'll only dream.


  The wind Is there, as It swirls with power,


  Without clouds,' It Is less observed.


   Perhaps way up high, a bird flies by,


   A jet on a journey, to some other land.


  There's a brightness to a sky that Is clear,


  You can see for miles, If you open your mind 
  To what;s up there.

  When night falls, In a clear, clear sky,


  Look up and see, all there Is to be.


                           Keith Garrett  

                              COLORS'


 There are many things' through our eyes' we see,
  Images of life born to we.

  Each day we awake, pictures are framed,
  In our minds,' colors' are named.

  Blue Is one, like an ocean or sky,
  Green Is another, such as grass or a dye.

  Red Is hot, dangerous, and bright,
  Like lava or fire, when close to your sight.

  Yellow Is soft and warm, alot like the sun,
  Purple Is sweet, like grapes eaten for fun.

  Orange Is a fruit, or a petal of a rose,
  Maybe some candy, or colors' of your clothes.

  Black Is a storm, or the dark of night,
  Sight taken from you, or things' not so right.

  White Is milk, or a polar bear,
  A pair of dice, or skin that Is fair.

  There are many colors,' made to be,
  A favorite for all, and one for you and me.


                           Keith Garrett

                          BEAVER CLEAVER,

              ALL ALONE AT 211 PINE STREET

  It seems like yesterday that we were a family,

  I think of being little, hanging around with Wally.

  My mother, June Cleaver was always around the house,

  Dad, Ward Cleaver worked in an office, home every 
  Night.
  We went to school in Mayfield, USA with friends 
  Remembered,
  My friend Whitey has gone away, Mrs. Landers left 
  our town.
   Mr. and Mrs. Ruthorford have disappeared beyond 
  this place,
  Dad had to leave one day, he didn't come through the
  Door anymore.
   Eddie and Lumpy left Mayfield, a while back, I do 
  Remember,
   Mom was tired from all the years, and so she traveled 
  Onward.
   I just got word that my older brother, Wally, has just
  Moved away,
   I miss my family, It's very quiet now, here at our house
  On Pine street.
   Mom isn't in the kitchen making dinner or asking me 
  How my day was,
   Dad doesn't call me downstairs to lecture me about my 
  Mistakes.
  Wally isn't around, calling me a little goof now, so many 
  Memories,
  I am Beaver Cleaver, I am now all alone at 211 Pine Street.

             Keith Garrett