A BIG HEART



  He was a small man but only in height,


  He would lose his wife as a child was born.


  Lou was his name, a man so kind,


  Trying to survive, taking care of his daughter.


  A job was needed, treated like some kind of freak,


  Turned away, desperate, he would steal for a meal.


  This is not who he was, why are people so ignorant 
  And mean,

  Confined to jail by one who did not care, a much 
  Needed favor.

  A daughter in danger, this little man with a big heart 
  Was needed,

  Risk his life he would, even for those whom did look 
  Down upo,

  A big heart in a man who did appear to stand taller 
  Than all.

                             Keith Garrett

                       100 YEARS FROM TODAY


 Yesterday, what we see as hundreds of years ago is gone,


  History it is to us, read about in books of long lost times.


  The days are always moving along, we do take for granted 
  The morning,

  The setting sun is a most spectacular sight, heading 
  into the night.

  Here where we stand, may still be standing, another 
  Will be standing,

  100 years from today, the world that we know will have 
  Muched changed.

  Just as we wonder what life was like, back in a time of 
  Cowboys and pioneers,

  Tomorrows people will also wonder and read about our 
  Time and place.

  100 years from today, we will be a part of history, others 
  Will be amazed,

  Just as we are amazed and dream of those times when the 
  World appears to be a dream.

                              Keith Garrett

             A COLLECTION OF TIME



  From our first look, a picture, a baby book,


  Pictures in school, pictures in the park,


  Home movies and videos, memories of who we are.


  A collection of time, scenes and images from a life,


  A scrap book, of many filled and turned pages to see,


  Photo albums created from places, times with family.


  A collection of time, pictures faded, recalled faces 
  That change,

  All that which we hold onto, saved in boxes, dusty 
  shelves of thoughts.

  A collection of time, memories in our minds, treasures
  Left behind.
                             Keith Garrett

                          A PERFECT MOMENT



  When darkness falls, and the night is quiet,


  Fighting is no more, words are of silence.


  Sitting on a bench, hand in hand,


  A drink for two, on my private land.


  When the echoes of sirens, are no longer close,


  The scream of the freeway, is not near my home.


  When all is everything I want it to be,


  A fantasy is made in, my own world to see.


  A perfect moment can only be, what we make it to be,


  Things of change piece by piece, a perfect moment can 
  Be anything.

                               Keith Garrett

                  MY WORLD, AND WELCOME TO IT


  My name is not important but who I am is not 
  A dream,
  My physical being holds no measure to my inner
  Creation.
  I am but a poor man with riches that lie in the heart,

  What I've lost I do not seek out, things of new 
  Appear to me.
  Once I was a child, a small and frightened boy 
  Left somewhere,
  A place, a father, and haunting memories of a time 
  Since vanished.
  There have been blessed upon me, friends in a life of
  Many roads,
  In these passing years, lessons of pain and triumph 
  Are understood.
  Children are mine to the count of three, two sons, 
  And a daughter,
  The pictures that keep them show of an older me, 
  my world.
  I am a writer of thoughts, imagination, and living
  Dreams,
  The road I travel is in every day, my eyes paint scenes 
  From stories.
  Music has its own loneliness, and beauty, to fill my 
  Soul and mind,
  I learn from it, as I write this on going tale, of a world 
  Full of mystery.
  There are many components that make me who I am, 
  A wanting man,
  Passion, anger, and humor, are part of the spirit in me, 
  More to see.
  A thinker, and energy, surround a body of laughter 
  that some can't grasp,
  Not of violence to those who know me, mistaken is
  Hurt for anger.
  To share my life with another, and one to let me in 
  Theirs is prayed,
  A poem read to, a meal for two, a walk in the park, 
  A fire in the dark.
  Brothers and sisters, a mother to far away, life has a secret,

  Love that flies away, for another love will enter in its 
  Own way.
  Something beautiful, and meaningful, is there before 
  my eyes,
  My name is Keith, this is my world and welcome to it.

                                 Keith Garrett                          

                      "THE MEANING OF LIFE

                                      AND

                THE WORLD ACCORDING TO ME"


  Does God have a plan, what Is his plan, could this
  Be his experiment,          
  From our first breath, until our last breath, there 
  Is life in between.
  The mystery of why we are here Is perhaps overthought,
   What is this life,          
  We walk and dream, In this short existence, known 
  To us as forever.
  The meaning of life appears very simple, and not so 
   Confusing, dear one ,         
  Sit back and listen, as I give my heart felt thoughts 
  Of where we are and why.
  Watch the trees, see them dance against the unseen, 
  But softly felt breeze,           
  Do you believe what has been put before you and me, 
  Understand the gift.
  Love and laughter, pain and sorrow, must be a feeling 
  For all to know,           
  All that lives Is born to die, from the beginning of time, 
  We age and say goodbye.
  See the mountain and walk Its' path, step by step, time 
  Will pass into tomorrow,           
  The sky travels, It Is the clouds that guide the way, see all 
  Things that are dreamed.
  The ocean will be, after on this Earth you and I are but a
  Memory, Hear the ocean,           
  Put your feet Into the sandy beach, feel the sand, walk 
  Along the timeless shore.
  Touch another's heart, with the love and care that Is 
  Possessed bt you, reach out,         
   Let go of the tears of many years, with a forgiving smile 
  That lasts a lifetime.
  If we see the sunrise, will we see the sunset again the 
   Same day,            
  Are we blind, do we take for granted the beauty of our world.

  When It rains, do we cry about that which falls down upon us, 
  Do we wonder why,         
  Listen for the sound, take In the drops of life that take us 
  Way on down the road.
  The meaning of life, and the world according to me, Is from 
  Inside all that this man May see,
  God has laid these truly wonderous things before us, to see, 
   To dream all that can Be.

                              Keith Garrett

        THE BRAVE MAN PUTS DOWN HIS SWORD


  Anger eats' at his heart, hurt devours' this mans' 
  Loving soul,

  He fights' within himself, as he seeks the peace of 
  Restful sleep.

  Listen to this man, as he asks to be heard among 
  The screaming noise,

  A battle rages between pain, and the happiness so 
  Desired for so long.

  What does a man see, when hate and mistrust rule 
  His hopes and dreams,

  He seeks to walk out from the darkness, and let the 
  Fight die with yesterday.

  The brave man awakes to his morning, and breathes 
  The hopeful day,

  With his hand, he takes from his belt the sorrow, 
  Let it go away.

  The brave man puts down his sword, fore there 
  Exists another way,

  The battle needs not to be won, the war created, 
  And destroyed by only he.


                                Keith Garrett

                               MYSTICAL DREAM


  I was dazed and confused, sick again,


  It was nobodys fault but mine, too much 
  Custard pie.

  During the battle of evermore, down by the seaside, 
  Eating a tangerine,

  I lived in good times, bad times, I had friends who died.


  Traveled did I to the houses of the holy, I was the rover,


  Ten years gone by now, how many more times for war.


  I visited the black mountainside, there she stood, a 
  Black country woman,

  A mean, black dog, she had by the name of Kashmir.


  She took a walk with me out on the tiles, a night flight,


  For your life, you had to fight, live by the laws of the land, 
  Or see the gallows pole.

  In the light, her eyes were bright, that's the way she looked,


  I said "I can't quit you baby, since I've been loving you"


  I found four sticks down by the ocean, a cross for both of us,


  In my time of dying, this was a celebration day,


  Babe, I'm gonna leave you, I see my stairway to heaven.

                        Keith Garrett

               MYSTICAL TUNES' OF LONG AGO


  Like mystical Knights,' from a time long since past,


  These three surviving warriors,' are back at last.


  A golden god, wailing tunes' that echo through 
  Our minds,


 With emotion to his audience, a performer so fine.


  From a magical guitarist, born back In time,


  Plays' a bow on the strings,' like a wizard casts' a spell.


  On his organ he plays' sounds,' like they were made up 
  In heaven,

  Also a guitar, would be another weapon.


  Together a power, none dreamed of before,


  A masterpiece of song, never seen on a stage floor.


  Missing from them, one fallen warrior,


  Whose hammering on his drums,' shook the ground 
  Like thunder.

  They called him bonzo, now a spirit In a new world of 
  Wonder,

  From England they were born, some time ago,


  Their music lives on, forever you know.


  Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Bonham, John Paul Jones,


  Led Zeppelin,                               Keith Garrett

                         A BASEBALL DREAM    



  On a farm, he grew up, the early days of the game,   



 A bat of his own, was made from a tree that stood alone.    



  He had a name for his bat, a certain magic it contained,



  Circumstances would get in the way, a dream put aside.



  Disappeared without a trace, until he arrived on a day,



  His special bat carried in hand, this was to be his last chance.



  For only a moment, he would stand beneath the lights,



  A baseball dream, before he faded into the night.


                              Keith Garrett