Globe

Upon the silent sphere of earth we trace, A blue‑green marble turning slow in space, Where oceans whisper secrets old and deep, And mountains guard the dreams that valleys keep.

From bustling streets of London’s foggy lanes, To quiet villages where rain still rains, Each continent a chapter, each shore a line, A tapestry of lives, of hopes, of design.

The globe does not proclaim, yet softly sings, Of winds that dance on ancient gypsy wings, Of cultures mingling like the tide’s soft kiss, In every heartbeat, every sunlit bliss.

So let us wander, hand in hand, across This wondrous world, embracing loss and gain, For in the turning of this steadfast globe, We find our place, our purpose, and our hope.