Froggacuda's Weblog

Walking on the beach
I spot a shell.
It is beautiful
So I pick it up.
I ask politely
Do you have a secret to tell?
To the conch
In my hands I cup.
I hold it carefully
To my ear
Listening for echoes
And the pounding of surf
But that’s not all
That I wish to hear
A remnant of
A mermaid’s mirth
Splashes above
The ocean’s roar.
Startled I look
Hoping to see
A pretty naiad
Or a galley’s oar
Yet there’s only wind
And sand and sea.
My moment past
Set the conch gently
Don’t bruise the colors
Or break a spine
Leave it for someone
Else to come presently
And let them wonder
About their find.