THIS GUITAR


   Strum as you will each string on Its' face,




   Words' In tune with every touch of a hand.




   What does It say as you teach It to speak,




   Sound and rhythm of emotion, this guitar.




  Two become one, body and tool, this guitar,




  Learn from It, feel Its' heartbeat of magic.




  This guitar talks' with the help of a wanting heart,




  Listen, listen as It echoes out thoughts', this guitar.


                            Keith Garrett               

                               "THE RIDER"


 He'll ride In the morning, through the day 
 Travels the road,

 High upon the hills, a shadow beneath the clouds, 
  He rides.

  Into the wind, the rain blowing against his face, 
  He rides,

  The  snow falls as through the mountain passes 
  He is moving.

  A man with no name, throughout the land, maybe
  A glimpse,

  He's known only as the rider, carrying whatever 
  For hire.

  This horse he rides, with colors of solid black and 
  White spots,

  A demon creature, wicked with speed like the wind.


  Brown and black hat worn on his head gives a 
  Mysterious appearance,

  A coat so long for cover and warmth shields him from 
  Weather, the rider.

  Boots on his feet of dark, broken In pattern, can be 
  Noticed in the stirrups,

  This man of the land rides and rides just he and his 
  Faithful companionion.

  Like a ghost so quiet he roams the wild wilderness of life,

  He's known as the rider, Into the night he rides.


                          Keith Garrett

                         THESE THINGS' I DREAM


  Within myself, thinking of  a place In another reality,




  What lies around me may be a different consciousness.




  This state of mind as I am not awake, floating, floating,




  I see a world like never have I Imagined before, I see.




 Visions' sent to my brain, pictures of stories past or future,




  These things' I dream, a mystery from an eternity.


                       Keith Garrett                

                            DAILY PLEASURES


  Wake to the morning, a cup of tea or coffee,


  Feeling the sun shine on a chilly, Fall morning.


  Something to eat as again hunger visits me,


  A shower, a hug from maybe someone you love.


  Feeling good as health is a precious gift to enjoy,


  A stroll down the street, just my headphones and me.


  A breath of life from morning through the dark of night,


  Taken for granted at times, daily pleasures are so fine.


                      Keith Garrett

                                                              CAMPING IN WYOMING


  It's been a long time comin' I need to tie up 
  Some loose ends,
  When morning breaks, In the light of day, I'll head 
  For my paradise.
  We were growin' up, It was Independence Day, 
  My lucky day,
  We all had a hungry heart and wanted to find our 
  Land of hope and dreams.
  We were heading for Wyoming, something of a 
  Jungleland,
  We wanted to experience life Itself, we took a 
  Leap of faith.
  Driving along, we saw a homeless man, we didn't 
  Have hearts of stone,
  He fell to the ground and asked? "lift me up" we 
  Fed him.
  How can a poor man stand such times and live, I 
  Wish I were blind,
  All he wanted was a little human touch, he said, 
  "let's be friends"
   We let him travel with us, he told us a story about 
  Jesse James,
  It was getting dark so we said a prayer to the spirit 
  In the night.
  We were stopped by a highway patrolman because 
  My license plate was missing,
  We made It to Wyoming, I said "I'm going down 
  To the river"
  My girlfriend had a good eye as she saw a snake 
  Close by,
  We got paranoid and Imagined we would be the 
  Last to die.
  She said, "If I should fall behind wait for me" "I 
  Wanna be with you"
  We set camp and a fire, I said, "yes! I'll work for 
  Your love"

  She said, "you know I'm on fire for you"

 This was a great adventure, camping in Wyoming.

             Keith Garrett

                          BETWEEN THE TREES


  From the road I step beyond, into another world,


  Peaceful beauty is waiting as my morning begins.


  No one here but me and whatever lives between 
  The trees,

  Listen to the birds high above, what types sing 
  Different songs?

  I step into the darkened forest with my feet crunching 
  The aged leaves,

  Quiet sounds are everywhere, things not seen, look 
  Close as they are to be.

  Shadows move with the swaying branches just as they 
  Move with time,

  Between the trees there is a most colorful, landscape 
  To take in, follow me.

  There is life here that has stood for many generations, 
  Beyond history,

  Between the trees, so many men and women have 
  Dreamed, all things seen.
                                    Keith Garrett

                                 BLUE JEANS


  Antique in time,  from the seventies, a pair so fine,



  I remember I put them away, blue Jeans for another day.



  A touch faded were they,  comfortable in a certain way,



  Worn were they to a party, perhaps a barbecue or two,



  A Saturday night drive-in, what jeans were worn by you?



  Blue jeans I took from a shelf,  dusty, aged from time, 



  They fit me once before, now I can wear them in my mind.

                                  Keith Garrett

                                AUNT PENELOPE


  She could do such unusual things without 
  Much thought,

  Out of bottle caps, she could make a crazy hat.


  She could jump really high, almost fly,


  Close her eyes and make an apple pie.


  She could walk backwards while tying her shoes,


  Dance around a pool while reading a book.


  She could play the harp without her hands,


  Tell you the time in just about any land.


  She could watch a movie without a sound,


  Recite every line while spinning around.


  Aunt Penelope was a strange one indeed,
 At the age of one hundred and fifty three,


  Old aunt Penelope is still but a fantasy.

                        Keith Garrett

                             AWAY FROM IT ALL


  Life as I know it left far behind, stored quietly,


  Kept in my mind somewhere but not forgotten.


  On an island, one of many seen by these eyes,


  Waves crashing on the beach for me to see.


  Sitting here in the sand just thinking about,


  There are sounds heard but only of nature.


  Palm trees are many in this world, across the sea,


  What's needed only brought with me, only needed.


   Away from it all is where I need to be, can you dream, 


   On  an island of wishes and a man's fantasy.

                           Keith Garrett                                                    

                             A DAY THAT CRIED


  A cold, cold day, a February of pain, fire reigned,


  This small town of New York saddened by spirits 
  Who died.

  In a moment, a second in time, there were screams 
  Not heard,

  Joined together to share the end, falling from the sky, 
  They cried.

  Sorrow filled the sky, tears rained from living eyes 
  Of the world,

  These souls headed to destinations of difference
  Are no more,

  A day that cried, as a large group of once was headed 
  For eternity,

 This trip they'll take, a journey as one, forever they 
  Rest in heaven.

                          Keith Garrett