Poetry

Briny

Briny whispers kiss the tide’s edge, Where salt‑kissed waves caress the shore, A lover’s sigh in sapphire pledge, The ocean’s breath forevermore. In rocky coves the gulls do cry, Their wings aloft in

Stall

In the market’s hushed morning light, A wooden stall stands patient, bright, Its canvas awning, striped in blue, Shelters wares both old and new. Apples gleam like polished stone, Loaves of crusty bread

Cumin

Cumin seeds, modest and brown, nestle in the jar’s dim light— a whisper of earth that rises when toasted in a hot pan, releasing a warm, smoky perfume that drifts through the kitchen like an old

Media

In the neon glow of midnight screens, where bytes cascade like restless rain, the world unfurls in pixel dreams, a ceaseless stream of joy and pain. Headlines flash in bold, stark type, tweets

Value

In quiet corners of the heart we find A worth that lingers, soft yet keen, Not measured by the gold we spend Nor by the headlines that ascend. It lives in laughter

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