Poetry

Token

A token, small and modest, rests in palm— A piece of paper, metal, bright as coin, A symbol of the promises we make, A pledge that bridges hearts, though thin and thin.

Eastleigh

Eastleigh’s quiet streets recall the day When steam hissed from the platform, coal‑black smoke Curling above the lines where journeys sway Between the countryside and London’s folk. The town’s heart beats beneath

What We Currently Know and Don't Know About Gnomes

What We Currently Know and Don't Know About Gnomes In the hushed corners of garden beds, we know gnomes tip their pointed caps at sunrise, their eyes twinkling like dew‑kissed beetles, guarding

Amaze

In quiet lanes where morning dew still clings, A sudden burst of colour paints the sky — Marigolds unfurl, their golden whispers sing, And hearts, astonished, feel their spirits fly. The

Tranmere Rovers

At Prenton Park the sky is draped in white and blue, Where Rovers’ pride has marched through seasons old. From Wembley dreams to League Two’s steady crew, Their heartbeat echoes in each brave,

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