Poetry

Usury

In shadowed alleys where the gaslight flickers, A usurer sits with ledger bound in leather, His eyes like flint, his voice a low whisper, That turns each earnest plea into cold tether.

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

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