Poetry
Waxen
In a lane where the summer light falls soft and amber, a field of bees, the air itself turns something warm, every leaf’s whisper—wax‑en gloss against the dusty afternoon. The sun, a coloured lantern, climbs high
Read more →Paths of Glory
Paths of Glory In twilight’s hush the old cobbles gleam, their ancient veins of stone lay strewn with dreams— the lanes that poets dare to trace when light upon their arches takes the place
Read more →Sumac
Sumac In the quiet garden, beneath the oaks, the sumac bend, a slender, coppery sweep, where dust of golden wax alights the dirt, and every leaf holds a promise of warm spice. It grows in
Read more →The Great Dictator
The Great Dictator In the cobbled lanes of old Blighty, where the hum of trams rattles like tinsel, a tyrant O’Gobble’s coat of velvet green drifts through the market, a defiant sheen. Rising
Read more →The Shining
The Shining Beneath the frosted veil of winter’s breath the Overlook looms, A grand, ivy‑clad ruin sat on a platform of white, Its windows a faceted crown of coloured silence, A cage for nothing
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