We hear it all, i hope, don’t lose hope, hope is all we have,

The thought of hope keeps us alive, it gives strength to the weak.

When times get hard, when there seems to be not an answer, hope,

Tragedy may be the ultimate pain so it is that we cling to hope.

The word hope, It’s a feeling, knowing that all will be well,

As if nothing is over, to overcome and not be defeated.

Hope is an invisible force, a chance, never giving up,

Hope seems to be a most beautiful word, it gives life.

I hope that all horrible things come to an end,

Hope is a beautiful word of promise, a name for a child born.

Hope that we can all take hands before heaven sounds,

Hope is a word of love in this amazing world that may be found.

Hope is everyday that we awake, hope sets at the end of our day,

Hope is a fight inside of all of us as we pray for the war to quietly go away.

Keith Garrett

A small, young, me a long time ago i use to be,

A different place in time has been left behind.

The clock hand spins forward so very fast,

When we were once there the second hand I

Moved slowly before our young dreaming eyes.

When we lived in our yesterday there were no scars,

Perfection was as much as it could be in our reality.

All of us age in a different way, life is a mystery,

It was not for us to know which way we would go.

To know ahead of time would give us no valued meaning,

What would we do if we understood as a child that only

One chance, no exceptions we had to live our lives

To its fullest, would it be a different world, stop and think.

I’m not all that i could be, I may be an older me, indeed.

Keith Garrett

Away from everyday, away from what is always seen,

To a place of peace by the water, where the grass is green.

Birds of song dance in the sky, here in solitude, this is I,

A giant oak tree that’s as old as many night skies, by the creek.

Myself searching for a dream come true, seeking in my reflection,

In the still water a face of a man staring at me, what does he see.?

By the creek is where i dream, lost wishes sleep at the bottom,

This always working mind try’s desperately to awaken them.

I’m a different sort of man now, lessons of mistakes learned,

Taught by what and the who of that which is gone away.

Lessons learned from the no more, by the creek, by the creek.

Keith Garrett

                I watched a man as he traveled the road, he sees,

I travel the road fore i am a man whom sees, whom dreams.

Many a ghost are known to me, a ghost of a man,

Of this world no more or of my life much distance.

A woman in a dream appears before me, she sleeps with me,

Her face is known to me as i sleep, as i dream, i see.

See me as i am, emotions run deep, a man of a thousand thoughts,

Seen from my eyes, seen as you are, i am not a fantasy, no dream.

A ghost is a memory, a vision of once was, things from yesterday,

A ghost to some as i live and breathe, one day a ghost in eternity.

She may be one that you think of, one that you dream about,

A woman in a dream, your dream woman, a life’s dream to be.

I am a man, I know of ghosts, and i have seen a woman in a dream,

Today, tomorrow, and yesterday.

Keith Garrett

They rise before the sun, breakfast, a day begun,

Men of a ranch know what it takes to get the job done.

There is much to do so off they run, dawn to dusk,

Bailing hay, stalls to be attended too, never done.

Digging posts, mending fences along the road,

A little fun, men working in the sun.

Breaking a horse, they become one, now the sun touches the ground,

The day is done, whiskey for my men, maybe a smoke,

These horses, like men, work from sunrise till days end.

Riding them to where the job need be done,

Pulling a wagon, exercising, or being groomed.

Part of a ranch, friends, man and horse,

They jump and gallop, run like the wind.

A roundup they work, play in the sun,

Just as the rest, when the day is done, beer for my horses.

Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses.

Keith Garrett

What’s troubling you young man, something’s on your mind,

Thoughts are in my head but the trouble is deep in my heart.

I can see that it has been taking you away to a different place,

I’m right here if you want to talk, i’m always here son.

That’s just it, I’m not you son!, I want to be your son,

What do you mean you’re not my son, I love you and you live here.

That doesn’t make me your son, If only you could adopt me,

I know i’m asking a lot, If you think it’s to much then i’ll understand.

To much, I would be proud to do this for us, we love you,

I have a father but he doesn’t want me, i’m of no use to him.

He wants a worker, he has no interest in love for a son,

Please!, i just want to belong somewhere, a family.

What about your real father, what will he say,

He doesn’t want me, i’m here if you want me to stay.

I never thought there was a question, you’ve been my son everyday.

Keith Garrett

Since the beginning of time, can you Imagine the first sunrise,

First there had to be a sound, what was at this time around.

A man, a woman, not a sound, how would anything come from their mouths,

Syllables, a first voice creating from it a letter, piece by sounding piece.

A word with a meaning, words, formed from the learning of the mortal man,

All over the world to communicate, languages spread everywhere.

Letters of difference, written words not understood throughout the world,

Letters make words and sentences of many beautiful phrases are learned.

I wonder if today words are taken for granted as we are constantly speaking,

To those whom can’t speak and wish words of sound would flow from their lips.

We have discovered that we can use words to hurt and also hate,

Words of love that heal a heart, words that show friendship are heard.

Words put together in song, sung all over our world,

Words are that which we all have in common,

If we learn a better way to use them, a better world we live in.

Keith Garrett

Heard around the world, Just one more day, the world will go away,

Run for your lives, hysteria and mass confusion would break out.

There’s no place to go as humanity scatters and runs under the falling sun,

Pack up your things and drive far as the ocean rises higher and higher.

Watch as the mountains crumble to the vibrating land, no man will stand,

The heat will rise to temperatures of flaming fire, hotter and hotter.

When the rain begins to fall never will it stop, will you build an ark,

If only one more day then what precious words would you say.

What is it that a man or woman would choose to do, tell me true,

A last beautiful day, would you gather with family and pray.

Spend every moment with a love with much to say,

See all there is to see or panic, wasting every last minute screaming in the street.

If only one more day then how would you spend it, with your children would you play,

To god would you speak and ask forgiveness before it’s to late,

How about thanking him for the life he gave you and all the beauty he let you see.

Keith Garrett

Suddenly a love says goodbye, a reason why does not matter, she cries,

A husband lost and gone away as he fades into the mist, dies as she cries.

Off to war a son grows to be a man, battle does not make a man, cry does she,

A daughter becomes a woman and wears the ring of her love, no more a little girl.

Life goes on as a woman again finds the love that heals the loneliness inside,

She cries when a man speaks of his love, a ring on her finger as life moves on.

Raised by a woman, a mother now much older and wise, a mother dies, she cries,

Taught by a father morals and the values passed on by a grandfather she knew.

What makes a woman cry,? Is it happiness found or sadness suddenly found,

Could it be a friends heart break or a pet that passes on, cry in the night, she cries.

What makes a woman cry,? many things great and sad, a beautiful day, a tear it makes.

Keith Garrett

I’ve walked many miles and seen a lifetime of unfamiliar smiles,
Laughter doesn’t always show on these faces of our world.
When once i was a child dreams filled my head of magical places,
Fairy tales of witches and giants were stories told as i listened and believed.
Always words or thoughts filling my head as the pages added creating
Many stories to books of a mans wanderings throughout a land of years,
Writing, putting down words and thoughts on paper to tell a story, a poem.
A piece put together of a picture seen from eyes that wish, from ears that hear,
Everyday scenes taken in, books stored on the shelves of my mind to be shared.
My hopes, opinions, thoughts sent out to all people, poets of the world whom will
In return share their thoughts, search their minds in an effort to also understand,
I am the poetry man, take in my words, i’ll read what’s written from your hands.
Keith Garrett