Poetry
Conch
On a windswept strand in Cornwall, where brass‑tarred far‑off ships make their own faint drum, there sits a shell of wax‑glazed, perfect round— a conch that feels the pulse of ancient foam. Its ribs,
Read more →A Beautiful Mind
A Beautiful Mind In the quiet lanes of thought, a garden grows, Each idea a seed that flowers in the mind’s heart. From the roots of curiosity, the mind’s colour blooms, A tapestry of
Read more →The Great Escape
The Great Escape In the still‑black dawn of a winter’s gloom, Walls of iron and stone seemed to loom, But hope leapt, defiant, “no eternal doom,” Each hand a brush, each foot a plume. Through
Read more →Klaus
Klaus by the Old Waterfront Beneath the blue of the Thames‑bank sky, Klaus walks the cobbles, a quiet wry grin, Did a half‑pint in a Chelsea corner, His laugh tucked beside a battered flat‑iron. He
Read more →Quilt
A Quilt's Lullaby In the quiet of the drawing‑room, beneath the moon‑lit pane, A grandmother’s quilt breathes stories, stitched in autumn’s grain. Each patch a little chapter, a secret in its seam, Colours mingle—scarlet,
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