Poetry

Plump

Plump as a ripe Victoria sponge, soft‑rounded cheeks that blush at tea, a round‑bellied tabby curled in sun, her purr a low, content‑filled hum. In the orchard, damsons hang, their dusky skins a

Tuber

In the cool, damp earth where shadows lie, A humble tuber waits, unnoticed, shy. Its knotted flesh, a quiet store, Holds summer’s sun in starch‑rich core. From furrowed rows the sprouts emerge, Green

Detox

Detox In the hush of morning, steam curls from a mug of herbal tea, a quiet promise to flush the excess, to let the body breathe. Sugar‑laden treats and late‑night spirits

Haven

In the quiet hush of dusk, a harbour sighs, Where gulls retreat and tides lay down their weary prize. A cottage, low and stone‑clad, sits upon the sand, Its windows warm with amber

Spoof

A mischievous grin, a whisper of jest, A spoof that twists the serious to jest. From parodies of pomp to satire’s sweet bite, We laugh at the mimicry, day and night. In

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