Poetry

Cable

Cables coil like serpents in the night, Their copper hearts humming low, a steady light, From street‑side ducts to homes they softly glide, Carrying whispers, songs, where thoughts reside. In lofts and

Salty

Salty whispers curl with tide‑kissed air, A briny breath upon the harbour’s sigh. Sea‑kissed shells and weather‑worn sails flare, Each grain a memory of ocean’s shy. From clifftop grass to fish‑market stalls, The

Evoke

Evoke the hush of dawn, when mist drapes the hills in silver lace, and the first light tiptoes over the meadow, whispering secrets to the sleeping grass. Evoke the scent of rain

Glaze

On the warm bun, a mirror gleam, Sugar spun on morning air. A quiet crack, a gentle gleam— The promise of the baker's care. Not born of fire, nor kiln's deep glow, But

Mania

Mania In fevered nights the mind ignites, A restless blaze that none can tame— Ideas erupt like sparks of light, Each thought a flame that cries its name. Hearts pound in

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