LEAVING IT ALL BEHIND


  I stop where I'm standing, looking around,


  What is this madness born to us all?


  Leaving my work, my home, and the things known 
  To me,

  Go away to a place up high, way back in the hills.


  There are no people of judgement to listen too,


  The loud sounds of tragedy lost in my travel.


  There is no anger or the struggle to survive,


   Out here, only nature to hear me cry.


   Leaving it all behind,


   The life that was once mine.


                                  Keith Garrett 

                                        LEFT IN A CHAIR



  A husband now gone, a lifetime spent together,



  She has a life, not young anymore but a human being.



  Everything has changed for this nice lady of an older age,



  Taken from her home where comfort was her daily friend.



  Cast aside in such ways, disregarded as a person due to 
  Aging,


  Sad as the family she raised now takes away her 
  Independence.


  From once a baby, now treated once again as a child, I 
  Watch this,


  They wait for her to go, out of greed they seem not to 
  Care,


  She sits by a back door, it seems her life is left in a
  Chair.
                                       Keith Garrett

                          LEGENDS OF THE OLD WEST

  They came from a time chosen for them,

  Became that which they were from many circumstances.

  Right or wrong, bad or good, these are the legends of 
  The old west,
  The men and women whom survived as they did.

   From Wyatt Earp to the Dalton gang, these names,

   Doc Holliday and Calamity Jane, once walked.

   Bat Mastersen, Buffalo Bill Cody, and wild Bill Hicock,

   Men of the old west, a different time and place.

   Annie Oakley, or General George Custer, another two,

   Frank and Jesse James, robbing banks and trains.

   Billy the Kid at a young age, killed a few,

   Pat Garrett the sheriff, shot him down.

  From the Alamo, they fought and died, back in time,

  Jim Bowie did fight, Davey Crockett no longer alive.

   Sitting bull and Geronimo, Cochise, Indians of stories,

   Were a different breed, lived and died as they believed,

    Legends of the old west, stories in time.

                                     Keith Garrett

                                "BOOK OF FAITH"

  I'd like to read to you a story, sit back and listen dear 
  Friend,
  This Is about a man who has lost and found things of
  Happiness.
  He Is not a wise man although at times he knows of 
  Wisdom,
  He Is not an angry man but anger lives within his spirit.

  This man walks a road of at times fear and confidence 
  Lost,
  Happiness Is that which he so much wants to hold onto 
  But there
  Are those moments when to be happy can be a struggle, 
  A search.
  He Is a man of Inner strength, he possesses no surrender,

  Will not give up,

  There are those times when weakness attacks and 
  The Battle rages.
  He holds In him close to his heart, faith that all will
   Be As It should,
  That things will turn out, God willing the way he 
  Intended.
  This man has much love In him as he did and still loves  
  But Will Again love.
  To live on his own, to live his life and again share his 
  Time With Another.
  This Is my story, this Is my book of faith told only to 
  You Dear Friend,
   Keep It with you always, may the Lord bless and watch 
   Over you,
  As your road Is traveled each and every day Into the rest 
  Of  Your life.
                   Love always,               Keith Garrett

                                    LOVE


  The sun shining down through the clouds, kissing 
  That skin,

  A touch of warmth It gives, taking away the morning 
  Chill.

  A cool Summer's breeze, whispering Into your ear, 


  Blowing through your hair, across the hills' to anywhere.


  The mountains up high so tall and wide, always watching,


   Their wonder and beauty given Is a gift to be seen.


   Dances does the ocean throughout this world of ours,


   Swaying and moving as If man and woman.


  Care and enjoyment, appreciation for that which Is before 
  You,

  May love be all of these things and everything more to a 
  Heart,

  That opens to let It all come In.

                                       Keith Garrett

                            MASTER OF THE GUITAR


  Hammer of the God's, like a wizard, black magic 
  Possibly,

  An outfit he wears, decorated with dragons and snakes,


  Black attire, tassels hanging from that which he wears.


  Master of his guitar in hand, double neck belongs to him,


  Magician of musical sound as he dances across the stage,


  From a legendary Led Zeppelin band, he is the great Jimmy 
  Page.

  Bow in hand, he strums to Dazed and confused, mystical 
  Tunes,

  Animated with such a floor show, speed of his fingers, 
  Go Jimmy! Go.

  Master of the guitar, magnificently he plays, from 
  England, The amazing, Jimmy Page.
                               Keith Garrett

                          I'M HEADING DOWN THE ROAD!


  I get dressed In the morning and pack my bags,'

  Open the window to look outside, the rain Is nomore.

  Through the clouds' appear a ray of light, just a little,

  Wind blowing strong enough to close an open door.

   A cup of coffee to get me going, breakfast really fast,

  With my things' In my hands, I head for the car, moving 
  Along.
  Saying goodbye, leaving this place, I'm going away today,

  Nothing left In this town for a poor lonely man, I'm 
  Walking Away.
  I'm heading down the road to a place I don't know, Into 
  The Sun,
  Along the way, to me many things' of sight, driving night 
  By night.
  What's been left behind lives now only In a poor mans' 
  Mind,
  I'll be doing fine, I'll be doing fine, I'm heading down 
  The Road,
  I'm heading down the line.

  I'm heading down the road, I'll be searching for you,  
  Moving Along,
  I'm heading down the road, I'm coming for you, I'm 
  Coming.
                                      Keith Garrett

                         HAVE YOU EVER WANDERED LONELY,

                                    THROUGH THE WOODS?


 Off the road, Into the shadows' of the trees, beneath 
 The branches,
 Beneath the falling leaves, and under the sky up above.

 Very peaceful and quiet with many sounds' hidden to one,

 Who walks alone Into the woods so dark, away from home.

  Further traveled Into this secret place of creatures 
  Unseen,
  Wandering without another, not alone as would appear.

  Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods,

  Have you ever felt that It belonged only to you, have 
  You?
  A walk through the woods, dreaming as you do,

 Makes whatever you think of possible, just you In your 
 shoes.
 Do you run through the leaves or climb up a tree,

  Do you think of things' that once were or could be?

  Give out a laugh, shed a tear, no one Is around here,

  Let go of your fears, embrace nature.


                                                                                         Keith Garrett  

                                        HANGMAN


  On a dirty street, in a western town back in time,  
  The gallows,

  He is the hangman, stands always still as the shadows 
  Drift with time.

  He is everywhere, face covered always in a mask of 
  Darkness,

  Not a ruler  but he holds the authority to life and 
  Death.

  A noose hovers, it sways with the wind, waiting for 
  Those Who sin,

  You  didn't just break the law, the ultimate crime lived 
  In your mind.

  A life you did take, murder will get you a date with the 
  Hangman,

  Many years ago when life was hard on the trail, guns an 
  Every day tool.

  When a man chooses the wrong road, decisions of 
  Criminal Deeds will do him in,

  The hangman will watch as you climb the stairs, each 
  Step you will sweat.

  A choice you have made, time to pay, the hangman 
  Does have his day.
                                  Keith Garrett

                                 THE WARRIOR


  Dressed for battle, he stands ready to fight, the
  Warrior,

  Fear lives within him fore this emotion brings wisdom.


  Strong as he fights for that which he believes,


  A lonely way of life but a man makes a choice, a 
  Stand.

  A family, not In this souls' plans, born to walk alone,


  This chosen way that may haunt Is just a house of 
  Cards.

  It's not said that a bad man Is he, quietly the sun rises 
  For him,

  This path chosen, a quiet one If those choose to let It 
  Be Not a fight.

  Always ready for battle, though silently lives In the 
  Shadows,

  This wanting to be left In peace man Is a warrior on 
  His own.

                                  Keith Garrett