Reply

Monday 3 August 2026
poetry

When a whisper finds its voice,
the air leans in to hear the reply,
soft as rain on cobbled stones,
yet firm as steel in a quiet sky.

Each syllable a bridge, each pause a step,
from doubt to certainty we glide—
in the gentle art of answering,
hearts meet where words reside.

Search
Jokes and Humour
Reply