Batch

The Batch

In the quiet kitchen a stack of scones rises
their golden skins a promise against the cold.
The oven hums, a low‑melodic pace that devises
each crumb a story that the heat has bought.

Outside, a lorry settles on the main road,
its beds filled tight with goods that wait to move.
A single stack, a batch, no one gets forebode,
yet together they show the world their prove.

At the college, a batch of bright lads convene,
the chalk‑dust breeze carries dreams and plans.
Their notebooks, packed for a semester’s unseen,
each a chapter, together fates they fan.

So whether it’s bread, cargo, or young minds,
a batch is a family, tightly enshrined.