Poetry

Afoot

Afoot Upon the winding lane I tread, My soles kiss the damp‑kissed earth, Each step a quiet hymn to the hedgerow’s breath, A pilgrimage of simple worth. The pavement glistens after rain, Pebbles glint

Ivory

Upon the silent savannah's hush, Where sun‑kissed grasses sway, An elephant lifts its ancient tusk, A column of ivory, bright as day. Its curve recalls the moon’s soft gleam, A whisper of forgotten

Befit

On What Befits It befits a crown to rest upon a brow Where thought is clear and duty stands austere, Not upon brows that sweat and strain and bow Beneath the weight of things

Peterhead

Peterhead At the edge of the Aberdeenshire coast, where the North Sea rolls in with a steady sigh, the town of Peterhead clings to granite and harbour, its streets laid out like

Armagh City

Armagh City In the quiet hush of emerald hills, Armagh wears its mantle of stone and spire, Two cathedrals stand—one Anglican, one Roman— Their bells a twin‑heartbeat across the lough‑kissed shire. Georgian façades

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