Poetry

Nocturnal Blossoms: Petals of the Moon

Nocturnal Blossoms: Petals of the Moon In silver hush the garden sighs, Where night‑blooms lift their trembling heads, Their petals—pale as moonlit skies— Unfold in whispers, soft as thread. Each blossom

Olden

In the olden days when mist would cling to laneways, Cobblestones whispered tales of knights and dames, Their voices low, like hymns in ancient prayer, A world where time was measured by the

Reading

In quiet corners, where the lamp glows low, I turn each leaf, and worlds begin to flow. The rustle of paper, a soft, familiar sigh, Carries me past the limits of time and

Prawn

Ode to the Prawn In silken shells of blushing pink, They drift where tide and current meet, A quiet ballet 'neath the sea‑foam brink, Where sunlight twirls in liquid sheet. Their antennae flick

Trace

In quiet lanes where footsteps fade, A trace remains, a whispered shade— A scent of rain on cobblestones, A fleeting mark where light has shone. It lives in ink that stains the

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