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

                                     ALWAYS A SHADOW



  The sun comes up, and the sun goes down,


   They're everywhere and always, make not a sound.


  Shadows from clouds, cast upon the ground,


  As the sun goes down, shadows all around.


  Shadows upon the mountains, in the early 
  Morning light,
  In the early evening, shadows that hide as darkness 
  Is in light.

  Always a shadow, shapes and sizes stretched out 
.  Across the land,

  Shadows of figures, like ghosts, phantoms here and there.


  Always a shadow, we carry this with every step we take,


  Always a shadow, even with the light still upon our face.

                                          Keith Garrett

                        AND THEN THERE WERE NONE



  A fight for survival, man/s quest for power to rule,



  Fear and ignorance, but money will be the tool.



  Inventors of destruction, builders of a  force,



 The enemy is our brother, traitor to the land.



  Which side are we on, who is on our side,



  Conflict and hatred, how many must have to die.?



  And then there were none, not much left to say,



  Put the bombs away, we may have another day.


                                  Keith Garrett

                               BEYOND MY REACH


  With my hand stretched to the sky, I can not touch 
 The stars so high,

  Nor the clouds, a falling star, or the sun going down.


  The wind, I can not grab hold, a bird in flight,


  A dream in the night, never a yesterday.


  Beyond my reach,is not my dreams,


  It is not that which I pray for.


  The hand of God, I can not touch, in my heart I 
  Can surely take hold,

  It is not hope, nor faith, it is not a tomorrow.


  Beyond my reach are many things,


  Beyond my reach, is not everything.

                            Keith Garrett