Poetry
Dodgy
Venture into the market’s back‑street, Where the stalls smell of marmalade dust, And every trader’s smile looks a little— No, not cheery… it’s the kind of dodgy trust. A coin that’s rusty,
Read more →Chinatown
In the heart of the capital, where historic bricks still wear the soot of centuries, the East unfurls its lanterns, a glow that sways the damp London air and steals the old‑world
Read more →The Bridge on the River Kwai
The Bridge on the River Kwai In the twilight of a jungle grey, where pines sigh beneath the moon’s pale eye, the river Kwai calls with a silver pull, a steady heart that knows
Read more →Swing
On the old wooden swing at the park’s quiet corner, the seat hums a soft, familiar groan— a lullaby in creaking timbers, the kind that fills the quiet Sunday mornings, as the breeze
Read more →Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels In the bruise‑red dawn of South London’s grit, a rusty truck, a shifter’s curse, a case of “lock‑up” tricks. Jack and his rag‑tag crew, all armed for
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