This Earth's Tiny Plot
Oh’ how rolls that deep blue sea
What tales it could tell you and me
Its constant rolling, its breaking spray
In the moonlight at the end of the day.
Oh’ land what changes you have seen
Your woods and rolling hills of green.
Land under the plough being tilled
By farmers who, strong willed
Rotate their crops in all seasons
Their year dictated by all reason.
Fields harvested now industrialised
That farming now is marginalised.
Settlements aeons now passed
Middle age villages now grassed.
They melted in the mist of time
Lives lived through ages rhyme.
Of the future what tales will tell
And what ideas will they sell
To future generations to blot
Upon this earths tiny plot.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (This Earth's Tiny Plot by David Wood )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Henry David Thoreau
(12 July 1817 – 6 May 1862)
Poem of the Day
- Christmas Glow, Cigeng Zhang
- The Watchers, Aaryan Deshpande
- Not necessarily, hasmukh amathalal
- I embrace my pen, gajanan mishra
- Loveless Love, Paul Hartal
- But vicinty, hasmukh amathalal
- Past Writing, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Still Small Voice, Leong Ming Loong
- Gap and divide, hasmukh amathalal
- Love Is Hard, Is It Poetry