Micro

Micro whispers in the quiet night,
Tiny worlds unseen to naked sight.
A drop of dew holds galaxies—
Each bacterium a star, each spore a dream.

In the lab’s hushed glow, the microscope sighs,
Revealing dramas where minute life lies.
Cilia dance like ballerinas thin,
Flagella twirl, a silent spin.

From the moss‑clad stone to the human cell,
Micro‑threads weave the tales we tell.
They forge the soil, they mend the wound,
Invisible architects, profound.

So let us marvel at the small,
For in the micro lies the all.
A universe in grain of sand,
Britain’s humble, hidden hand.