Poetry

Sorry

Sorry, a quiet word that lingers Like rain on a London pavement, Softening the edges of harsh goodbyes, A breath held between heartbeats. We whisper it when the teacup clinks, When the tea

Elbow

In the quiet hinge of arm and forearm, The elbow bends—a modest, sturdy joint— Where laughter echoes when the funny bone’s struck, A secret pivot that lets us reach, embrace, and throw. It flexes

Dopey

Dopey dawn drapes the sleepy street, A yawn‑soft haze in amber light, Where thoughts drift slow, like wool‑soft feet, And time seems wrapped in cotton‑tight. In every glance a gentle grin, A harmless

Check

A quiet pause, a moment’s check, The hand that lifts, the breath that steadies— A simple tick upon the list, A whisper of assurance, soft and mild. In corridors of thought we

Deity

In the hush of ancient hills, a deity sighs, Whispering through mist‑cloaked vales where thunder lies. Eyes like polished amber scan the shifting tide, Hands that mould the dawn, where night and day

• The Friday Fun British Test
• Dilbert Archives