I’d love to be an archaeologist,
and dig up a real good find.
A skeleton or two would frankly do,
each one of a human kind.
Some pottery, and tiles of mosaic,
jewellery that women wore,
back through stages, in far distant ages.
Even a dinosaur’s jaw.
There were Romans, Saxons, and Vikings,
who all roamed over our land.
With their pleasures, they must leave some treasures,
to be uncovered by hand.
Hours of gentle light digging and scraping,
at soil to reveal a prize.
A coin, some flax, buckle of bronze, flint axe,
can make one’s excitement rise.
Our history is found under our feet,
we walk upon it each day.
A fascinating state, to excavate,
this earth, this brown mud, this clay.
© Ernestine Northover
A very interesting write, we do not know what lies beneath our feet, I find those tv programmes about these digs fascinating,10 for you for this, Lynda xxx
I missed seeing your poems here :) Awesome write. I love your descriptions.
A lovely poem Ernestine, a nice flowing piece. Love Andrew xxx
Well, , it didn't take much to un-earth this little gem Ernestine, and let's face it, being an archaeologist would be so rewarding/satisfying when you do find something that ties in with the past This is great All the best Love duncan X
A good one, I enjoyed it a lot and there is nothing like getting your hands dirty whilst searching for treasures.
Fascinating indeed, this was an enjoyable read that transported me into a dusty dig, thanks for the trip!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I find here as so often that that which I and others take for granted you bring to my/our attention as something which warrants deep contemplation. Thank you. t x