Poetry

Sober

Sober In the hush of early dawn, when the pub’s last glasses clink, I walk the cobbled lane, my thoughts as clear as winter ink. No amber haze to blur the edge of

Fizzy

Fizzy In a tall glass the lemonade waits, a pale‑yellow promise of sunshine, its surface a still lagoon— until the first tap releases a whisper of escaping gas, a soft hiss that sighs like a secret

Stirling University

Stirling University Upon the amber banks of the Forth, where river whispers meet the rustle of oak and pine, the campus spreads—stone cloisters and modern glass— a quiet dialogue between past and

Swamp

Swamp’s Whisper In the hush of twilight’s amber gleam, Where reeds stand guard in muted green, The swamp exhales a slow, deep sigh— A murky mirror of the sky. Moss‑soft banks give way

Colwyn Bay

Colwyn Bay Upon the Irish Sea’s soft sigh, where gulls carve silver arcs against the sky, the promenade stretches, a ribbon of stone, watching the tide pull its quiet‑toned groan. The

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