Poetry

Briton Ferry Llansawel

Briton Ferry Llansawel By the winding Neath, where water sighs, Old stone bridges guard the quiet tide, Rows of terraced houses wear the skies Of slate‑grey clouds that softly glide. The

Wimpy

He walks the street with shoulders curled, A timid soul in a world that whirls, His voice a whisper, soft and low, Like summer rain on pavements slow. He shies from conflict,

I'm in Love with the Woman in the Green Cardigan in the BBC Question Time Audience

In the hush of the studio lights, she sits, a splash of emerald wool, her cardigan folding around her shoulders like a quiet promise against the studio’s hum. BBC Question Time flickers

Fence

Along the garden’s quiet edge, A humble fence in weathered wood, It marks the line where petals pledge Their colours to the neighbourhood. It watches children’s laughing feet, Stops wandering dogs with patient

Harrogate Town

In the heart of North Yorkshire’s rolling green, Harrogate Town sits, a quiet dream. Its cobbled streets and Georgian grace Whisper of a bygone, genteel place. The Stray unfurls like a emerald

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