Tom W. Timms Poems

"First up best dressed"
Young brother - teased the other
Neither lad had guessed the rest
This would be their last game together "Right half" died of grave wounds
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From the safety of the cliff top hide
I watch the antics of the sail boat ride
Its follow my leader boys
And off they go - through the sea's roar
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Let me go quietly
Not forced to see life through to the last painful gasp
No long and protracted parting
For there is no virtue in pain
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How many surprises will the new millennium yield
On this earthly orbiting planet
Shall we really make contact with outer space
How shall we greet them face to face Would it be with derision and atom blast
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