Poetry

Decal

On the smooth expanse of a car’s bonnet, a thin film waits—transparent, patient— a decal, a whisper of colour, ready to cling like a secret promise. Peel away the backing with careful

Value

In quiet corners of the heart we find A worth that lingers, soft yet keen, Not measured by the gold we spend Nor by the headlines that ascend. It lives in laughter

Ebony

Ode to Ebony In ancient woods where shadows play, Ebony stands in sable array, Its trunk a night‑wrought column, tall, Drinking the moon’s soft, silvery call. The grain runs deep like midnight streams, Polished

Craft

In quiet workshops, where wood and thread entwine, Hands trace the grain, the stitch, the steady line— A shaping thought becomes a tactile song, Each measured cut a patient, quiet throng. From clay that

Gleam

Gleam In the hush of early dawn, a silver thread Slips through the mist‑kissed hedgerow, soft and shy, A quiet promise that the night has shed, Whilst sleepy fields begin to sigh. It dances on

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