The Poems of David Garlick
Mr. Penhaligan said to me. Would you like to come to tea, at my cottage by the sea? Mr. Penhaligan said to me. Mr. Penhaligan said to me. I never eat bread and butter for tea. Only scones and cake, you’ll see. Mr. Penhaligan said to me. Mr. Penhaligan said to me. […]
She came drifting through the mirror in the middle of the night. She wore a see through garment of translucent lace in white. When I say that it was ‘see through’ I could see through her as well. Who was this lovely creature? Who was this Southern Bell? Her hair hung down in […]
I’m only a mouse in the chocolate chip cookies but I make enough racket to awaken the dead. As I scrabble and scratch, gnawing and chewing. Which wakes up the people asleep in the bed. As I knock over drink cans, rattle the glasses, jangle a tea spoon or fall in the tub. […]
My mother has a “Surger,” with lots of bobbins on it. It sits there slyly smiling in the bedroom down the hall. But I know it can be wicked, as it looks just like a spider, with it’s arms and legs all waiting for that moment to explore. I’ve a funny sort of feeling […]