PAINTED CLOUDS

  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, shaped 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

                               MR. FITSCHU


  A fictional character from back in time,


  On a planet of giants, no peace could he find.


  Running for his life as everything was an adventure,


  Not a task was small, each day was like forever.


  What seemed  like a nightmare was reality for him,


  They were not monsters, in fact, human just as he.


  Not friendly as they would not understand this,


  A freak to be put in a cage, laughed at, a prisoner.


  Mr. Fitschu would forever be running for his life,


  Always watching, in the land of the giants.

                   Keith Garrett

                               All that I see


  Far In the distance I see hills' standing still,




  Trees of green blowing In the breeze, falling leaves.




  Grass of green that I see below me, vision of paradise,




  A lake that sits' beneath the sky, this sky sometimes cries.




  I am a dreamer who sees with heart and soul,




  All that I see Is not only a dream.



                                              Keith Garrett

                                   AN OLD MAN


  I saw an old man, standing in the sand, with cane 
  in hand, Staring out at the horizon,

  I asked of him what his thought's were about,


  He stared at me with a sigh and a smile.


  "I'm one hundred and three as I look to the sea"


  "I've outlived my wife and family"


  "I've had a life, seen many wonderful things"


  "Now an old man, old as the trees"


  "I say old man! what is it like to be one hundred
  And three"

  "I don't know, I only know what it's like to be me"


  I asked of him, would you wish to again be a child,


  He replied, 'my only wish is to again see my wife's smile"


  I asked to him an old man, what's the greatest thing you 
  Have done in such a lifetime,

  His words to me were this, "I married a beautiful wife, I 
  Walked with her in the sand"

  " I saw her smile, and now here I stand"


                             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 different 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 NEW WORLD BEGINS'


  Tomorrow I leave today behind, this year vanishes,


  Gone Into memories, put away like antiques on a shelf.


  What's ahead of me, only God In heaven can know,


  Much lies ahead of me In this land of Imagined dreams'.


  Left behind Is yesterday, many things' to cry about, to 
  Say goodbye,

  Today a new world begins' as If to be born a baby next 
  To mother.

  I'll see things' that were not known to me, days' since 
  Past,

  More that will be understood by a man with a heart that 
  Heals.

  Lessons' learned but not without teaching have they been,


 This world goes around and around, so what have I found.


  Fore a door that's been opened,mysteriously the wind 
  blows shut,

  A window lifted, opened to a place of freedom for which 
  Is me.

                                      Keith Garrett

                           A MINUTE FROM HEAVEN



  I live a life that seems more than half way done,


  Started at a beginning, seen more than sun to sun.


   I've walked this land and had my share of pain,


   Friends who have come and gone, love them 
  Just the same.

  A family through struggles and laughter, 


  Children grow up so fast, will they only remember
  My name?

  I had my share of good, other things, I've paid 
  The price,

  All I ask of you dear lord, is that you consider my 
  Fight.

  A minute from heaven is what we have each day,


  Step by step when the time has come, would you 
  Kindly show me the way.
                                                      Keith Garrett

                              A NEW PARADISE


  I sit back and think of the possibility that we
  may start again,

  If not here, then is there some other place of 
  Peace and happiness.

  In the beginning we hear about a garden, it 
  Disappeared from us,

 A new paradise where we can hear the birds sing 
  Without trouble on the horizon.

  Listen to the wind without the painful, tragic, 
  Sounds of sirens,

  A wonderful island, a new world where we are 
  Equal in every way.

  Money holds no meaning, in this paradise home, 
  Where not a soul walks alone,

  Food so plenty, pains of hunger never again, in this 
  New paradise where all are friends.

   Sickness no more, no worries of a cure that were 
  Learned about many years before,

  A place that sounds familiar, written in story books, 
  A fantasy not believed,

   Believe in this as once such a place did exist, a lesson 
  Learned if so happens again.
              Keith Garrett

                           A LIST OF THINGS TO BE


  Never an astronaut, dancing slowly upon the moon,


  Flying in a jet across the sky, no, not did I ever fly.


  A football star throwing the ball far, a dream that
  Won't be,

  Under the lights, a victory on a Superbowl night.


  What is it like to be a movie star, pretending to be 
  many things,

  Known everywhere, this is not what I was born to be.


  An Olympic star, a racer of cars, I wanted to be, but 
  That's not me,

  A great writer, a hero of sort would be something I 
  Might be.

  A rescuer of the down and out, a conqueror of 
  Homelessness,

  I may not be an Einstein of genius, I am good enough 
  For me,

  A list of things to be, how much can one man need?

                                  Keith Garrett

                      A HORSE CALLED STORM


  Jet black, tall and strong, he stands in the 
  Morning light,

  Out in the grassland roams this free spirit.


  Never ridden, not a man calls him theirs,


  Answers to not a soul, does this horse left alone.


  His name is storm, dark as the night,


  Moves like lightning, sounds like thunder.


  Fierce and at times mean is this beast,


  Untamed by man, natural and free.


  He is friends with each day, land where he runs,


  A horse called storm standing in the sun.

                            Keith Garrett