Poetry

Lever

Ode to the Lever In workshops old and modern halls, A humble lever answers calls. With effort pressed on its long arm, It lifts the load, disarms the harm. The fulcrum stands, a

Nylon

Ode to Nylon In looms of industry the polymer sings, A synthetic fibre, strong and light, Its nylon threads, like midnight’s silvery strings, Weave through the fabric of the day and night.

Plane

Silent wings upon the sky, An aeroplane carves the blue, Leaving vapour threads that sigh, As sunrise paints the world anew. Engines hum a steady tune, Over fields of verdant green, Through cotton clouds

Civil

In quiet streets where lanterns gleam, A civil hush begins to dream, Where neighbours share a soft‑spoken word, And courteous gestures are not blurred. The town hall stands with modest pride, Its stone

Coven

In the hush of midnight’s velvet veil, A coven gathers ’neath the silvered moon, Their cloaks a rustle like autumn’s pale, Voices weaving ancient tune. Hands entwined, they trace the sigil’s seam, Chanting

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