In My Own Words – Page 48 – The Poems of David Garlick

I’ve soared the mountaintop of love,

lived in the valley of despair.

I’ve sung the songs of happiness

Wept scalding tears of shame.

I’ve swum warm seas of self-deceit,

plumbed depths of nameless fears.

But now with you, upon a plain

that has an endless curve.

I see the beauty, feel the wind,

find flowers bright as stars,

and hear the ring of notes long gone,

the peace of time to share.

David Garlick, Victoria, June, 1997

I was a dashing pirate once,

when first I learnt to read.

I fought with sword and pistol.

My gallant crew I’d lead.

We sailed a fleet, black schooner,

the Sea Witch was her name

and filled her holds with treasure

we captured on the “Main.”

But now I have grown older,

my fantasies have fled –

among the years and friends long gone

and words I should have said.

No more a tilting deck to pace,

nor canvas clouds o’rhead.

A tiny diesel engine works

to push the hull instead

And though the sturdy little hulls

ne’r fill with Louis d’ors.

Still there’s a thrill to earn a tip,

Gold Loony in ones paw.

Avast me hearties, show a leg.

Haul halyard, sheet and line.

She may not be a pirate ship

but four to ten she’s mine.

David Garlick, Victoria, July, 1995

I do not think that good marriages are made in heaven

and like wise, they are not destroyed in hell;

though it may, at times, seem like it.

No, good marriages are made by people

and destroyed by people.

The good and the bad, the well meaning, the simple

they are conceived in love, lust and greed.

They are destroyed by love, lust and greed.

Only true love can survive a marriage.

It seeks to give more than take,

to accept more burden than rest.

To support more than undermine

to understand more than criticize.

Not one of us is always right.

Not one of us is always strong.

Not one of us is always kind,

Placid, generous, sensitive;

make your own list.

It is a fact, that while not one of us is perfect,

we can always try to do better.

David Garlick, Sidney, November, 2003

The gift of love shared.

A new love so joyous that

you feel it can be shared –

with the whole world –

without diminishing it.

The echo,

like a call in the mountains.

continues to sing

in your heart.

It reaches out and

we hug it to ours .

Thank you for sharing

this wonderful moment.

David Garlick, Sidney, December, 2009

For Merry et al.