Poetry
The Silence of the Lambs
The Silence of the Lambs In the murmour of the evening sky, the meadow lies in quiet estate, golden‑flecked clouds drift on, pale, shy, while lambs lie still, their breaths close‑taught. No chatter, no bell,
Read more →Saving Private Ryan
Echoes of the Bay When clouds of war clung high over Omaha’s shore, the first air‑spattered sky gave breath to the young. By ten‑seventeen, the tide of fate was poured, and thirteen broken children
Read more →Spiny
Spiny In a hedgerow turned to stone, a thistle stands alone, Its green‑green crown of bristles, a prickly, noble crown. Each needle, a tiny knife that guards its treasured root, A silent promise of
Read more →The Green Mile
The Green Mile In a dim corridor of iron and bruised floorboards, the pale light of dawn slinks westward, refusing to shine. There, a green‑tinted line of emotion and doubt surfaces like a slow‑blooming
Read more →Allot
Allot In the quiet council chamber, the mayor’s hand draws a line on the old map, and with a measured voice, she allots the plot to a child who will pow whitt‐off his
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