Poetry

Micro

Micro whispers in the quiet night, Tiny worlds unseen to naked sight. A drop of dew holds galaxies— Each bacterium a star, each spore a dream. In the lab’s hushed glow, the

Bulky

Bulky In the corner of the flat, a sofa sighs, its cushions swelling like a weekend tide, fabric stretched over springs that groan when a eager dog leaps up to claim his pride. A winter

Leggy

Leggy In the quiet garden where dew still clings, A shoot pushes up, slender and long, Its stems a whisper of jade, Leggy in their eager reach for sun. Like a dancer on

Aloof

In quiet corners of the mind, he stands, Aloof, as if wrapped in a woolen overcoat, His gaze drifting past the bustling market stalls, Where scones steam and tea is poured with care.

Relic

Relic In dust‑laden corners of forgotten halls, A relic lies—its surface softened by time, A silent witness to epochs that fall, Whispering stories in a language sublime. Bronze or bone, it bears the

• The Friday Fun British Test
• Dilbert Archives