The Poems of David Garlick
Spiders have long hairy legs, they come both large and small. I’m not sure why they scare me but I don’t like them at all. They sort of catch you napping, when they hide behind a book or peer at you from underneath the bed. I wish they wouldn’t sneak between the stove and […]
I’d like a purple dragon to come and live with me. We could play every morning or paddle in the sea. But if the Purple Dragon turned blue when he was cold. His mother would soon scold him, to say “Do what you’re told!” Breath out your dreaded dragon’s breath and wrap it round […]
Peddlers pecked persistently, among the lizard people. Periodically persistence pays off in, a plethora of pesos! Porque no? David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, February, 1998
There’s a dragon that lives in our basement. He sleeps right under the stairs. I know he’s there ‘cos I’ve seen him and smelt his breath on the air. At night, when it’s quiet, I hear him. For he breaths with a rumbling noise. But I’m not afraid of our dragon for I’m told […]