Thick In the rain‑slick streets where London’s mists begin The air grows thick, a damp so fine it clings, And every breath tastes of old brick and peat, A liquid curtain, swelling like a
Read more →In a lane of clover, under a clear blue sky, A little bunny prances where the daffodils lie. His ears twitch like flags on a bustling street, And he hums a soft tune,
Read more →Ode to the Dough In the dim kitchen light where the oven's glow watches, I knead the humble earth‑swept mixture, a quiet tale of yeast‑made wishes. Soft and breathing, the dough curls like a sleepy cat
Read more →To Plead In the dim glow of a London street‑lamp, I stand and utter a quiet, earnest plea, A soul uncut, a heart that knows no dam‑t. The night, a silvery mirror to my
Read more →Water under the Bridge The Thames once ran wild beside the old stone arches, Its silver fingers scrabbled between the cobbles; Now river‑creek has settled into quiet, The water a soft lull, a hush
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