In My Own Words – Page 77 – The Poems of David Garlick

Heel and toe, heel and toe,

walking fast along the road.

Walking back to health again.

I used to be a runner, run forever,

still dream of strides that float.

Wonderful elation of movement.

Now I just walk, but I walk fast.

Breathing more heavily

as the road turns up hill.

Shorten the stride, breath deeply.

No point killing myself

trying to get better.

Walking is OK, you can see

so much more on foot.

I miss the running but

my back is glad.

Why not just admit your age,

will you never grow up?

No, guess I wont,

if I haven’t so far

and what’s to grow up for.

Heal and toe, heel and toe,

pulse is topping 120.

Truthfully I’d rather ski,

play tennis, scuba or

work a heeled foredeck.

I will when my heart is strong.

Heel and toe, heel and toe.

David Garlick, Victoria, February, 1996

To some a clarity of mind.

To some the sense from whence the wind.

To some to draw, to paint, to carve.

Each a skill we can hone or lose.

Each is a gift but it’s not free.

For it must be accounted for.

If all we do is ride along,

forgetting the changing of the tide.

Then soon enough the gift is gone

Life’s not just a race to win.

In crushing others, where’s the joy?

To lead, to give, to help, to guide,

is where true greatness will be found.

So when others seem so dim.

Help them to glimpse a single ray

of what for you is clear and bright,

as sunrise of another day.

Do not expect a clear response.

Do not wait for words of thanks.

The tiny spark that you may light,

may save a life or make a dream.

In life you know to watch the wind

And feel the helm to make good speed.

You know the currents, rocks and kelp

but most important, know yourself.

It is great fun to win a race

But only when it’s done with grace.

My son I love so well.

David Garlick, Victoria, 1986

Crocodiles lay basking on the mud bank.

Ridged pebbled backs in gentle curve.

Tails twitched now and then,

making small waves and sandy swirls.

Hooded eyes unblinking but aware.

Each huge lizard seemed to be smiling;

long teeth overlapping at mouth edge.

Benign in rest, terrifying possibilities.

Frightening thoughts of seizure in strong jaws;

the dragging down to rot under logs!

Fierce predators, quick ancient monsters,

surviving in the few swamps left by

greedy, voracious men seeking victims

among their own kind, human cannibals

with unlimited appetite, never satisfied.

Along the shore a bird steps among the

resting reptiles, immune to their menace.

A snuffle and a monstrous jaw yawns.

The bird walks into the maw of death

to clean between the jagged rippers.

It walks deeper, pecking and probing.

I think of my Dental Hygienist.

Wondering if my supine posture

reminds her of a crocodile

basking on a humid mud bank.

David Garlick, Victoria, May, 1996

When I think of Kashmir

the lakes come back to me.

Warm water and Mogul gardens,

set out with symmetry.

Lotus blossoms in pink and white,

Kingfishers in feathered show.

Dragonflies that dart in flight,

mountain tops dusted in snow.

Tiny island, Char Chunar,

in the center of Dhal Lake.

Memories of small adventures,

with summer days a picture make.

Yellow roses on a wall,

water flowing past the fountains.

Terraces of vibrant colour,

back drop of purple mountains.

Mountains that, I knew so well.

Glacier of the Kolahoi,

Mahadaio, Haramook.

Poignant memories, for a boy.

Myna birds with yellow beaks,

Hoopoes, seeking for a grub,

Crested Bulbuls singing sweet,

Hawks that circle high above.

Thoughts that flood an aging mind,

bitter sweet of years ago.

Beauty of a jewel like vale,

lakes and mountains that I love.

David Garlick, Victoria, 1986