Poetry

Woman

She walks like dawn across the cobbled lane, Her laughter soft as rain upon the pane, Eyes hold the quiet strength of ancient oak, A steady pulse that none can ever broke.

Adapt

In the quiet glade where reeds sigh low, A willow bends, its branches sway, Learning how to dance with gusts that blow, It does not break, it finds its way. The city

Throw

Throw In the park, a child lifts a scarlet ball, eyes bright, fingers flexing, the world a pause— the arc begins, a lazy sigh of leather, spinning like a whispered secret towards the sky.

Pixel

In the quiet hum of a screen, each pixel dreams, a speck of colour, a quiet gleam. Together they stitch a tapestry of light, forming faces, landscapes, day and night. From a

Piano

Upon the ivory keys I wander, Each note a whisper, soft as rain, A cascade of sound that gently ponders The hush between delight and pain. The lid now raised, the hammers

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