Poetry
The Red Shoes
In the crackle of the cobbles, a whispered colour swirls— the scarlet‑stitched promise of the red shoes, bright as a heart in summer. They sit upon the lamppost, draped in
Read more →Gone Girl
In the quiet of a London suburb, the kettle sang a weary tune, she left a tea‑leafed note – a kiss on an empty bowl – a whisper in the hallway, “Gone.” The street was
Read more →Haste
Haste In the cobbled lanes of yesterday’s city, where the old rail line still hums a forgotten night‑song, hasten comes like a sudden turn of a wind turbine, leaving the hawthorn with a dented
Read more →On the Waterfront
On the Waterfront By the narrow pier that baffles the grey sea, the old boats lean on the reclaimed boardwalk, their sails bruised by a thousand salt‑crusted nights. A lone figure, cap snug, walks
Read more →Jaws
Beneath the mist‑swept glow of a tidal town, the river’s silver ribbon hums a quiet verse, and somewhere beneath its calm, a shape lurches— a massive maw, a jaw that catches every breath. It
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