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    The Thoughts Of Baz More Scribblings
    The Thoughts Of Baz More Scribblings
    The Thoughts Of Baz More Scribblings
    Ebook99 pages22 minutes

    The Thoughts Of Baz More Scribblings

    By Barry Larkins

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    About this ebook

    continueing my thoughts in verse on a variety of subjects from adventures to disastrous journeys, some amusing while others my bring a tear. You may enjoy trying to translate the odd dialect poems.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBarry Larkins
    Release dateFeb 10, 2014
    ISBN9780957613454
    The Thoughts Of Baz More Scribblings
    Author

    Barry Larkins

    Many writers probably started like me with nightschool classes in creative writing,this progressed when I collected my father's poems, the story is the preface to my first book of poems which explains how I got started.Many of my poems have won awards and short stories too.I continue to write, mostly short stories, although I am writing a biography of a relatives diaries from WWII. Ideas for novels are also in the production line.

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      Book preview

      The Thoughts Of Baz More Scribblings - Barry Larkins

      Special moments,

      Not thought of every day.

      Certain things, events,

      Bring them back,

      Then they sparkle again.

      It may be a place,

      A meal or a drink

      That made an impression,

      A not to be forgotten moment

      That will live in the memory,

      Not thought of every day.

      These moments in time

      Will always shine for you,

      Woken when least expected

      But just as special now.

      These precious gems

      To be enjoyed, savoured,

      For the diamonds that they are.

      Special moments

      Not thought of every day

      That will live forever

      In the jewel box of your memory.

      Pecking Order

      It’s lonely and it’s dead up there

      yet they fight for their rightful place,

      ducking, diving, dashing in

      then swerve and shy away.

      They feint and parry dancing by,

      their fluid movement a graceful ballet,

      harrying their chosen foe

      until it tires and moves away.

      They rest awhile, regain their breath

      the jousting carries on,

      there is no victor yet it seems

      that elusive peak will not be claimed.

      The perch is won and lost again,

      a moment’s glory earned,

      resting on that topmost twig

      the victors lose in turn.

      Then, as if in unison,

      And formation swing away

      their fun is over now it seems

      so end their little game.

      As the crows fly off to who knows where

      that topmost twig still stands,

      unmarked by all the war games

      stark and bare until next time.

      Foreigner

      Av lived ararned ere fer sixty odd year,

      Laikin in t’quarry, swimmin in t’dam,

      Skatin on t’ice___ well slidin,

      Yer nor wen a were nobut a kid.

      But that in’t tale am tryin to tell

      S’al move on ta that if tha’l listen.

      Yer see___, a were reminiscin in t’pub

      Wi a chap t’other neet

      Abart Couplands, Ben Browns,

      Lucases and Claphams,

      All t’shops on

      Enjoying the preview?
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