Poetry

Rebecca

Rebecca, you walk through Westminster’s marble halls, Her laugh a bright clapper‑cone, cheering the morning vows. She savours a cuppa, steam curling like a gentle cloud, While the Tube thrum beneath—London’s lifeblood, proud.

The Incredibles

The Incredibles – A Family of Heroes In London’s misty lanes the city sighs, The Rolling Thunder chimes, a distant boom; Yet in the Simpson house, beneath the skies, A hero’s heartbeat sings a

Rush

Rush At the tick of a five‑o’clock metronome, the city unfurls its iron heart. A lorry pulls by the car‑park, doors wide, its stubborn breath of petrol draped over the crowd. Queue after

Spotlight

In the dimming theatre’s hush a single beam cuts the velvet dark, a thin silver seam. A lone light, a target, a daring claim, It calls the actors to the stage’s frame. With reverence,

Thanksgiving

In the quiet glow of autumn’s amber light, we gather on a day that’s not our own, but a feast we share with friends from far‑off, where gratitude takes centre stage. A golden bird,

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