In My Own Words

So many words have slipped past my lips
but still I have not said what I set out to say.
So many words have left my HB pencil
but what I want to tell you evades me.
So many thoughts flash behind my eyes,
grand sweeping phrases which once imagined,
are lost, gone forever as if never there.
Lost, lost except as tears, the ever available sop,
for lack of talent or courage to tell you,
out loud, that I sincerely love you.

David Garlick, Sidney, February, 2008

Snowflakes melt and join.

Two young people pledge their love.

Parents are happy.

David Garlick, Victoria, December 1995

Written for Bob and Yasuko, when they decided to tie the knot.

So why do you weep, my Indian maid,
where the mountains rise from the sea.
Where the Eagle soars and the Salmon leaps
and the waves and the winds blow free?

I weep for a part of me that’s lost,
I weep for the wide Prairies.
I weep for the sky that is domed and blue
And the rippling Poplar leaves.

And I weep for the kiss of snow on my cheek
And the jewels of frost on an a tree
And the whispering wind in the fields of wheat
In a place where I long to be.

So take me back to the open plains
For that is my spirits plea.
Yes I belong where the sky is huge
And I long for the wide Prairie.

David Garlick, Victoria, July 1991

When a candle flame withers from orange to blue

and the light it gave us dwindles.

When the scent of burnt wax fades on the air

and the warmth it shared cools.

Will we remember it?

Words written in it’s light, remain.

Books read by its loom can be felt,

the ideas, alive in our minds.

The scent of warm wax lies waiting,

ready, in our unconscious to waken

and warmth, still lingers pleasantly.

Can you see the candle in your mind?

Yes it was and still is there.

As long as you exist.

David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, February 1998

Loving Words

Lover’s Knot

Snowflakes melt and join.

Two young people pledge their love.

Parents are happy.

Indian Maid

So why do you weep, my Indian maid,
where the mountains rise from the sea.
Where the Eagle soars and the Salmon leaps
and the waves and the winds blow free?

I weep for a part of me that’s lost,
I weep for the wide Prairies.
I weep for the sky that is domed and blue
And the rippling Poplar leaves.

And I weep for the kiss of snow on my cheek
And the jewels of frost on an a tree
And the whispering wind in the fields of wheat
In a place where I long to be.

So take me back to the open plains
For that is my spirits plea.
Yes I belong where the sky is huge
And I long for the wide Prairie.

Candle

When a candle flame withers from orange to blue

and the light it gave us dwindles.

When the scent of burnt wax fades on the air

and the warmth it shared cools.

Will we remember it?

Words written in it’s light, remain.

Books read by its loom can be felt,

the ideas, alive in our minds.

The scent of warm wax lies waiting,

ready, in our unconscious to waken

and warmth, still lingers pleasantly.

Can you see the candle in your mind?

Yes it was and still is there.

As long as you exist.

Snowflakes melt and join.

Two young people pledge their love.

Parents are happy.

So why do you weep, my Indian maid, where the mountains rise from the sea. Where the Eagle soars and the Salmon leaps and the waves and the winds blow free?

I weep for a part of me that’s lost, I weep for the wide Prairies. I weep for the sky that is domed and blue And the rippling Poplar leaves.

And I weep for the kiss of snow on my cheek And the jewels of frost on an a tree And the whispering wind in the fields of wheat In a place where I long to be.

So take me back to the open plains For that is my spirits plea. Yes I belong where the sky is huge And I long for the wide Prairie.

When a candle flame withers from orange to blue

and the light it gave us dwindles.

When the scent of burnt wax fades on the air

and the warmth it shared cools.

Will we remember it?

Words written in it’s light, remain.

Books read by its loom can be felt,

the ideas, alive in our minds.

The scent of warm wax lies waiting,

ready, in our unconscious to waken

and warmth, still lingers pleasantly.

Can you see the candle in your mind?

Yes it was and still is there.

As long as you exist.

So why do you weep, my Indian maid,
where the mountains rise from the sea.
Where the Eagle soars and the Salmon leaps
and the waves and the winds blow free?

I weep for a part of me that’s lost,
I weep for the wide Prairies.
I weep for the sky that is domed and blue
And the rippling Poplar leaves.

And I weep for the kiss of snow on my cheek
And the jewels of frost on an a tree
And the whispering wind in the fields of wheat
In a place where I long to be.

So take me back to the open plains
For that is my spirits plea.
Yes I belong where the sky is huge
And I long for the wide Prairie.