Poetry

Shone

In the quiet dawn, the horizon shone— a thin, amber seam where night slipped away, each blade of grass catching the colour of hope, and the world paused, bathed in gentle, golden glow.

Sheffield Wednesday

Owls upon the Sheffield sky, Where the city's heartbeat lies. Hillsborough's slope, the Kop's loud cry, Underneath the Yorkshire sky. Blue and white, the colours worn, Through the rain and summer sun. From the glory days

Waken

Waken, the world sighs into light, A hush of dew on meadows bright, The sparrow’s call, a soft refrain, Stirs sleepy hearts to rise again. From pillow‑soft to cobblestone street, Morning unfurls its

FC Halifax Town

FC Halifax Town, where the Shaymen gather, On the turf of the Shayne, beneath a Yorkshire sky. The Shaymen’s roar, a steady, proud chant, Echoes through the Shayne, as hopes take flight.

Snowy

Snowy whispers veil the town, White flakes drift like muted lace, Each breath a mist in chilly grace, Footsteps mute on powdered ground. Lamplight glows through frosted panes, Turning streets to hushed, soft

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