Poetry

Sorry

Sorry, a quiet word that lingers Like rain on a London pavement, Softening the edges of harsh goodbyes, A breath held between heartbeats. We whisper it when the teacup clinks, When the tea

Elbow

In the quiet hinge of arm and forearm, The elbow bends—a modest, sturdy joint— Where laughter echoes when the funny bone’s struck, A secret pivot that lets us reach, embrace, and throw. It flexes

Shelf

On a quiet wall, a wooden shelf Holds stories thick as tea‑stained pages, Its grain recalls the carpenter’s steady hand, A quiet stage for trinkets and tomes alike. Morning light slips through

Dopey

Dopey dawn drapes the sleepy street, A yawn‑soft haze in amber light, Where thoughts drift slow, like wool‑soft feet, And time seems wrapped in cotton‑tight. In every glance a gentle grin, A harmless

Nudge

A quiet nudge, a whisper‑soft push, Like dawn’s first light slipping through the curtains, It coaxes the stubborn leaf to unfurl, And turns the hesitant heart toward courage. In the bustle of

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