Poetry

Swami

In quiet ashrams where incense curls, A swami glides like twilight’s pearl. His robe, a saffron‑tinted hue, Whispers of ancient truths anew. With eyes that hold the moon’s soft gaze, He teaches stillness

Aldershot Town

Aldershot Town, where history marches on, From barracks’ brick to the hum of the town, Stone‑cobbled memories of soldiers’ stride, Echoes of bugles where pride won’t subside. The heath lies quiet beneath

Pizza

Ode to a Slice In a humble kitchen, dough is rolled, A golden disc, both thin and bold, It waits beneath the oven’s glow, Where bubbles form and aromas flow. Tomato

Baton

In the hush before the stadium’s roar, a slender baton waits, polished steel, its tip catching the afternoon light like a promise passed between eager palms. Relay runners clutch it tight, feet pounding

Woking

In the leafy shires of Surrey lies a town called Woking, Where the River Wey still winds and the railway winds beside. Victorian brick and modern glass sit side by side in

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