Vowel

Vowels

In the silent silence of the alphabet,
the five soft seats—A, E, I, O, U—
await the tongue’s gentle brush.
They are the heartbeats of every word,
the oscillating hum of syllables,
the breath that breathes life into shape.

They do not ask for the r after them,
yet carry the arch of a cup of tea,
the unseen spice of a proper colour dish,
a rhyme that slips into the square of a poem.

Y, the shy wanderer, sometimes climbs in,
a stray moonlit flag on a word’s line.
Together they paint the soft‑and‑hard symphony
of the English tongue, the old‑world sound‑garden,
where every vowel is a bloom that sings,
and the letters that surround them stand in quiet hush, listening.