Poetry

Sleep

In the hush of night the world draws near, A soft, dark blanket pulls us dear. Eyes grow heavy, thoughts unwind, As sighs of day relinquish mind. Moonlight slips through curtained seams, Silver

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

Guide

A guide stands steady on the winding lane, A lantern’s glow that cuts through mist and rain. Not merely stone or sign, but quiet hand, That points the traveler towards the promised land.

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.

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