Poetry

Ipswich Town

At Portman Road the Suffolk sky awash, Where blue and white in quiet pride convene, The Tractor Boys have forged a steadfast clash, Against the winds that sweep the Essex scene. From

Ritzy

In Mayfair's hushed avenues, the lights do gleam, A ritzy tableau of silk and champagne. Carriages glide past Georgian façades, While jazz spills from a cellar's low hum. Tailored coats and polished brogues Mark the

Loughgall

Loughgall, a quiet place where green hills sigh, Where ancient stone and modern hope entwine. St. Mary’s spire looks down on lane and sty, While whispers of the past still softly twine. The

River

River’s quiet sigh, Silver thread through vale, Carrying whispers of ancient stone, Mirroring sky’s pale veil. It dances over smooth‑worn rocks, Kisses reeds with liquid lace, Reflects the weeping willow’s droop, And holds the moon’s

Scuba

Beneath the sapphire sigh of seas, A diver slips in silent grace, Where kelp forests sway like emerald lace, And coral crowns the quiet deep. The hiss of breath, a steady hum, Bubbles

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