The Poems of David Garlick
I have a funny tale to tell about a stout Baboo. An Indian Civil servant, very bureaucratic too. His post was on the Kashmir road to act as Customs Man. To stop the flow of illegal goods. He called it “contraban”. For Kashmir State, when I knew it, was ruled by Hari Sing. A […]
Soon enough we are born. We grow; we live our various lives, we love. Soon enough we have children – and many good friends. Our families stretch and Joy is a gift received, soon enough. Soon enough but often too soon – we grow old or find that it is time to […]
We are the creatures of the Wing. We are free but bound to Nature. We are gathered as a flock. We are ready to journey, South. We are driven to reach, to fly – as a huge V in the sky. The day has dawned clear and bright, let us begin. Let us fly. […]
Fifty! Oh how ghastly. Where have youth and beauty gone? Where those quiet little glances from those poised and gentle men? And my figure, once so slender, now a fuller, rounded me. But inside I still feel twenty. So I think that’s what I’ll be. David Garlick, Victoria, October, 1990