Poetry

Tulip

The Tulip in a London Patisserie In the quiet corner of a London garden, I spotted a single tulip, green‑leafed and bright— A splash of crimson against the dull brown of peat, A little

How to Train Your Dragon

How to Train Your Dragon In a valley where stone shadows glide, a bruise‑coat beast waits, fierce yet dignified. The folk of the north say, “Hold calm, listen well, for a wyrm thrives not

The Red Shoes

In the crackle of the cobbles, a whispered colour swirls— the scarlet‑stitched promise of the red shoes, bright as a heart in summer. They sit upon the lamppost, draped in

Gone Girl

In the quiet of a London suburb, the kettle sang a weary tune, she left a tea‑leafed note – a kiss on an empty bowl – a whisper in the hallway, “Gone.” The street was

Haste

Haste In the cobbled lanes of yesterday’s city, where the old rail line still hums a forgotten night‑song, hasten comes like a sudden turn of a wind turbine, leaving the hawthorn with a dented

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