Poetry

Amass

Amass – a quiet tide of moments, Gathering like pebbles on a shore, Each grain a memory, each stone a thought, Building hills of whispered histories, Until the horizon swells with what we’ve kept, A

Cumin

Cumin seeds, modest and brown, nestle in the jar’s dim light— a whisper of earth that rises when toasted in a hot pan, releasing a warm, smoky perfume that drifts through the kitchen like an old

Media

In the neon glow of midnight screens, where bytes cascade like restless rain, the world unfurls in pixel dreams, a ceaseless stream of joy and pain. Headlines flash in bold, stark type, tweets

Decal

On the smooth expanse of a car’s bonnet, a thin film waits—transparent, patient— a decal, a whisper of colour, ready to cling like a secret promise. Peel away the backing with careful

Value

In quiet corners of the heart we find A worth that lingers, soft yet keen, Not measured by the gold we spend Nor by the headlines that ascend. It lives in laughter

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