Poetry

Begun

Begun In the hush before dawn, the sky’s pale blush has just begun – a shy, amber sigh that stretches over the rooftops, painting the chimneys with liquid gold. A lorry rumbles down

Cycle

The Cycle Turning round the year’s great wheel, Spring unfurls its tender green, Summer sings in golden heat, Autumn sighs, a copper sheen, Winter draws a quiet veil, And the cycle starts again. On two

Elfin

Elfin In the hush of moon‑kissed glades, where fern‑fronds sigh and wild thyme spreads, there flits a silhouette of grace— elfin, lithe, with laughter’s trace. Her eyes are dew‑kissed amber pools, reflecting

Alley

Alleyways at Dusk In the hush of twilight’s sigh, the alley wakes, A narrow vein of stone and shadowed slate, Where brick walls whisper stories that they make, And lanterns flicker, soft as a

Prude

In quiet lanes where primroses bow, A prude does walk with measured tread, Her gaze averse to any row, She shields her soul from idle thread. She sips her Earl Grey, steeped

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