When we are going in a train
At sixty miles an hour,
We marvel at the mighty speed,
And at the engines’ power.
But earth is moving faster far,
Just like a spinning top,
All through the day, all through the night,
Without a single stop.
And as she turns herself about,
She circles round the sun,
At sixty thousand miles and hour,
Her journey never done.
Only so softly does she turn,
Without a jolt or spill,
It took a clever man to find
She wasn’t standing still.
(Edith L M King)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Power PoemsBased on Keywords: jolt