Poetry

Briny

Briny whispers kiss the tide’s edge, Where salt‑kissed waves caress the shore, A lover’s sigh in sapphire pledge, The ocean’s breath forevermore. In rocky coves the gulls do cry, Their wings aloft in

Stall

In the market’s hushed morning light, A wooden stall stands patient, bright, Its canvas awning, striped in blue, Shelters wares both old and new. Apples gleam like polished stone, Loaves of crusty bread

Amass

Amass – a quiet tide of moments, Gathering like pebbles on a shore, Each grain a memory, each stone a thought, Building hills of whispered histories, Until the horizon swells with what we’ve kept, A

Cumin

Cumin seeds, modest and brown, nestle in the jar’s dim light— a whisper of earth that rises when toasted in a hot pan, releasing a warm, smoky perfume that drifts through the kitchen like an old

Media

In the neon glow of midnight screens, where bytes cascade like restless rain, the world unfurls in pixel dreams, a ceaseless stream of joy and pain. Headlines flash in bold, stark type, tweets

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