In My Own Words

A house is a place to live in.
Made joyful with the laughter of children,
It becomes a home.

A door opens its arms in welcome.
Let it speak quietly.

Windows, house eyes.
Open them; let the air in
and the laughter out.

A garden, a place of wonder,
where flowers sing and
insects play hide and seek.

Trees are places
where leaves whisper secrets
and their shade cools.

A driveway is a place for games,
cars should not tarry here.

Home, a place where love flourishes
and tears are for small hurts,
real or imagined.

David Garlick, Victoria, July 1996

Happy news, oh happy news,

once again we sing in praise.

Happy news, oh happy news,

Jesus Christ is born today.

Come and join us, sing aloud.

Glory to our lord we say.

Come and join, sing aloud.

He was in a manger laid.

Praises to the lord we bring.

Born to us to be our king.

Praises to the lord we bring.

To the sky our carols ring.

Happy news, come sing with us –

In our joyous welcoming.

Hallowed love be his today,

He for whom in praise we sing.

David Garlick, Victoria, Christmas, 1990

Written during Midnight Service

Sponge baths are alright
but my head itched.
Please nurse may I have
a hot, wet shower.

“Not till you have
permission from
your Cardiologist.
Ask him tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, that’s ages away.
Please, I itch all over.
I promise to be good,
what ever that means here.

“No, you may be better
but still “at risk.”
Here have your pills.
Perhaps tomorrow.”

Two tasteless meals
and a night of snores,
before I can even ask!
I feel so helpless.

In the morning, he said,
“Yes, you may have a shower
with caution,
Later today.”

She came into the ward.
Black hair, attractive!
“Are you the one for a shower?”
Yes, I said, is your name Caution?

David Garlilck, Victoria, February 1996

In rainbow hues, a monument;
that reaches to a bright blue sky.
The toilet seats of Mexico, lost
but somewhere, they must be.

The mystery of the missing seats.
The cold comfort of porcelain rim,
that leave a mark on mind and bum;
when mem’ries of adventures dim.

They must be stacked, a tower tall.
Babel like, to reach the sun.
No thought of language parity;
no just a chilling end‘ity.

And we must rest upon our hands,
or suspend ends, while muscles ache.
This we hope in cause of art.
in which our nether ends take part.

David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, February. 1997

A House

A house is a place to live in.
Made joyful with the laughter of children,
It becomes a home.

A door opens its arms in welcome.
Let it speak quietly.

Windows, house eyes.
Open them; let the air in
and the laughter out.

A garden, a place of wonder,
where flowers sing and
insects play hide and seek.

Trees are places
where leaves whisper secrets
and their shade cools.

A driveway is a place for games,
cars should not tarry here.

Home, a place where love flourishes
and tears are for small hurts,
real or imagined.

Happy News

Happy news, oh happy news,

once again we sing in praise.

Happy news, oh happy news,

Jesus Christ is born today.

Come and join us, sing aloud.

Glory to our lord we say.

Come and join, sing aloud.

He was in a manger laid.

Praises to the lord we bring.

Born to us to be our king.

Praises to the lord we bring.

To the sky our carols ring.

Happy news, come sing with us –

In our joyous welcoming.

Hallowed love be his today,

He for whom in praise we sing.

Caution

Sponge baths are alright
but my head itched.
Please nurse may I have
a hot, wet shower.

“Not till you have
permission from
your Cardiologist.
Ask him tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, that’s ages away.
Please, I itch all over.
I promise to be good,
what ever that means here.

“No, you may be better
but still “at risk.”
Here have your pills.
Perhaps tomorrow.”

Two tasteless meals
and a night of snores,
before I can even ask!
I feel so helpless.

In the morning, he said,
“Yes, you may have a shower
with caution,
Later today.”

She came into the ward.
Black hair, attractive!
“Are you the one for a shower?”
Yes, I said, is your name Caution?

Banyo

A house is a place to live in. Made joyful with the laughter of children, It becomes a home.

A door opens its arms in welcome. Let it speak quietly.

Windows, house eyes. Open them; let the air in and the laughter out.

A garden, a place of wonder, where flowers sing and insects play hide and seek.

Trees are places where leaves whisper secrets and their shade cools.

A driveway is a place for games, cars should not tarry here.

Home, a place where love flourishes and tears are for small hurts, real or imagined.

Happy news, oh happy news,

once again we sing in praise.

Happy news, oh happy news,

Jesus Christ is born today.

Come and join us, sing aloud.

Glory to our lord we say.

Come and join, sing aloud.

He was in a manger laid.

Praises to the lord we bring.

Born to us to be our king.

Praises to the lord we bring.

To the sky our carols ring.

Happy news, come sing with us –

In our joyous welcoming.

Hallowed love be his today,

He for whom in praise we sing.

Sponge baths are alright but my head itched. Please nurse may I have a hot, wet shower.

“Not till you have permission from your Cardiologist. Ask him tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, that’s ages away. Please, I itch all over. I promise to be good, what ever that means here.

“No, you may be better but still “at risk.” Here have your pills. Perhaps tomorrow.”

Two tasteless meals and a night of snores, before I can even ask! I feel so helpless.

In the morning, he said, “Yes, you may have a shower with caution, Later today.”

She came into the ward. Black hair, attractive! “Are you the one for a shower?” Yes, I said, is your name Caution?

A house is a place to live in.
Made joyful with the laughter of children,
It becomes a home.

A door opens its arms in welcome.
Let it speak quietly.

Windows, house eyes.
Open them; let the air in
and the laughter out.

A garden, a place of wonder,
where flowers sing and
insects play hide and seek.

Trees are places
where leaves whisper secrets
and their shade cools.

A driveway is a place for games,
cars should not tarry here.

Home, a place where love flourishes
and tears are for small hurts,
real or imagined.

Sponge baths are alright
but my head itched.
Please nurse may I have
a hot, wet shower.

“Not till you have
permission from
your Cardiologist.
Ask him tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, that’s ages away.
Please, I itch all over.
I promise to be good,
what ever that means here.

“No, you may be better
but still “at risk.”
Here have your pills.
Perhaps tomorrow.”

Two tasteless meals
and a night of snores,
before I can even ask!
I feel so helpless.

In the morning, he said,
“Yes, you may have a shower
with caution,
Later today.”

She came into the ward.
Black hair, attractive!
“Are you the one for a shower?”
Yes, I said, is your name Caution?