Welcome to Larry Andrews' website.

Greetings and welcome to my blog spot.

I've written two novels since my retirement in 2008. The first is a romance, Songs of Sadness, Songs of Love. The second is an action/mysteryThe China-Africa Parallax: A Ryan and Gillian Mystery.

Among the textbooks I have written areLinguistics for L2 Teachers, Mahwah, NJ, Lawrence Earlbaum Associates, 2001; and Language Exploration and Awareness: A Resource Book for Teachers, 3rd edition, Mahwah, NJ, Lawrence Earlbaum Associates, 2006. This textbook was translated into Korean by Pagijong Press, Seoul, South Korea. 2010.

I am presently writing my third Ryan and Gillian novel, The Nathan Culper Brotherhood. You can follow my progress on novel #3 here at this blog site.

To order any of my titles please go either to nook.com or amazon.com (Kindle users can go to the Kindle Store.).

Monday, April 2, 2012

Writing Poems



 Today I submitted 5 poems for publication. Here they are for your reading pleasure, I hope.




            Immanuel

The folk invoke their god:
Immanuel, Immanuel God be with us!
Oprah, Oprah, the Barbies exult.
They wait for Judge Judy,
Then quiver in rapture
When Judge and Bird emerge.
Tyra, Tyra, the Thumbelinas praise!
On another stage Ellen conjures
The Believers' spirits,
Then they arise and rejoice.
Each time the floor director gives
The cue, the people go to a
Perfect  world, riding My
Little Pony to Eden.
Life begins by pulling a string
Grounded in a memory chip.




          The Show

Grover, Sparky, Lefty and Cap.
Ernie, Yogi, Ducky and Nap.
Hit it where they ain't.
Jesse, Happy, Mickey and Whitey,
Eddie, Charlie, Jocko and Rollie.
Good pitchers master the feint.
Dizzy, Dazzy, Daffy  and Ted.
Reggie, Sandy, Jackie and Red.
Ball fans worship Rita the Saint.





              Next of Kin

You're asked to name your next of kin
Should an accident call and find you in;
For assurance, for insurance, or even worse:
Who's going to pay for the funereal hearse,
The plot, the burial crew, and the obit?
Your mother, father or brother could be it.
Or, your next of kin could be.
Maybe a cousin who's free
At the time. A nephew, niece or sister,
An uncle or an aunt, or any Mister
With the same last name as yours.
It could be one of your mentors
Who helped you become you;
You know, your own personal guru.
Next of kin isn't only determined
By blood  but also love, well-fashioned.





  The Duck

Like a shoe in the socks drawer,
Or a tuxedo on a wild boar,
A duck scrunched on our front porch,
As apt as a Christmas tiki torch.
The duck wasn't expected
And seemed disconnected.
It's not difficult, though, to devine
His surprise was greater than mine.




  Family Circle

At a round rest stop table
The usual can of pork
And beans, with nothing added
To make them seem more than
They were, was the only side.
The mother prepared simple
Cold cut sandwiches, neat,
Without mayo or lettuce,
And the ordinary meal
Became a summer picnic.
It evolved into a meal of love
And they were like some
Westward pioneers who stopped
Someplace near here to be
In a family way.



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