Poetry

Tiger

Stalking through amber grass, the tiger prowls, A silent flame in twilight’s hush, His coat a tapestry of midnight gold, Each stripe a whisper of the jungle’s lore. Eyes like molten amber,

Siege

Siege Upon the grey dawn the banners hang low, A shroud of silence over stone and snow, The enemy’s eyes, like hawks, scan the wall, While trumpets muffle the distant call. Ramparts stand firm, their

Rebus

In the hushed study where the lamplight sighs, A rebus waits, a quiet riddle dressed in pictures— A bee beside a leaf, an eye beneath a wave, Each glyph a whispered clue, each

Unify

In the hush before dawn, we gather Fingers interlaced like roots of ancient oaks, Each breath a shared rhythm, A quiet pledge to bind the scattered threads Of our diverse stories into one bright

Troll

Beneath the moss‑clad stone of an old railway bridge, A troll lurks where the river sighs and the willows dip, His skin the colour of peat after a long autumn rain, Eyes like

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