Poetry

Scale

On the kitchen table, a brass scale rests, Its polished arms like quiet sentinels. A gentle sigh of metal as it settles, Balancing the world in grammes and ounces. Feathers of flour

Chalk

In the hushed classroom, a solitary stick, Of white calcium, humble and quick, It glides across the blackboard’s dark face, Leaving trails of thought in fleeting grace. The teacher’s hand, a steady

Speck

A tiny speck upon the pane, A wandering dust in morning's light, It drifts like hope, a quiet strain, That catches colour, soft and bright. In silent rooms it finds its place, A

Shaft

A narrow shaft of dawn slips through the blinds, A silken thread that pulls the night apart. It climbs the stone‑worn stair, a quiet wind, And paints the hallway with a trembling heart.

Enact

On the hush of dawn the bill is laid, Its words like ink‑stained footsteps on the floor, Each clause a promise that the council’s made, To turn the parchment into living law.

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