Poetry

Ensue

Ensue When the rain sighs on the cobblestones, A ripple of steam curls from the pavement, Each droplet a quiet promise that follows, A soft‑spoken sequel to the storm’s refrain. Footsteps echo on

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

Forte

In the hush of evening’s muted gleam, My forte blooms like twilight’s shy refrain, A steady chord that breaks the dream, A quiet power that eases pain. It is not the shout

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

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