Poetry

Cable

Cables coil like serpents in the night, Their copper hearts humming low, a steady light, From street‑side ducts to homes they softly glide, Carrying whispers, songs, where thoughts reside. In lofts and

Salty

Salty whispers curl with tide‑kissed air, A briny breath upon the harbour’s sigh. Sea‑kissed shells and weather‑worn sails flare, Each grain a memory of ocean’s shy. From clifftop grass to fish‑market stalls, The

Child

In the hush of morning light, A small hand finds a mother's palm, Soft giggles echo like a chime, Their eyes reflect the sky's bright calm. Tiny feet patter on the wooden

Evoke

Evoke the hush of dawn, when mist drapes the hills in silver lace, and the first light tiptoes over the meadow, whispering secrets to the sleeping grass. Evoke the scent of rain

Table

Upon the oak, a quiet stage, Where cups of tea and biscuits engage, The grain recalls each whispered tale, A steadfast centre where hearts prevail. In morning light, the wood does gleam, A

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