I listened to the shell
cupped against my ear,
a slight hint of the roar
of the sea,
a wisp of the salt smell
of the sea,
a bare trace of the creature
that had lived within,
whispering its echoes
of the waves
of the sea.
I held the shell
cupped in my hand
and imagined infinity.
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Photograph: Pastel Seashell by Pennie Gibson via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
smiles...this is lovely glynn...esp imagining infinity...i miss the ocean and hearing its roar...i need to find me a shell...smiles.
ReplyDeleteA lovely meditation.
ReplyDeletehttp://poemblaze.wordpress.com (can't post this with wordpress link)
A wonderful write.
ReplyDeleteThe closing lines are particularly good.
Nice work here.
It's good you remind us of the joy of a little thing like this. Great closing line.
ReplyDeletebrings back childhood memories of holding such a shell ... very poignant
ReplyDeleteoh for crying out loud...
ReplyDeletewhich is what i am about to do
for you...yes you
have made me think of blue
skies and foamy waves
on the sand
sniff
the warm warm sand
i need to go and get my shell now...
I really enjoyed this poem. The rhythm evokes the sound of waves on the shore. Great write. I only hope I can beat the authentication now :-)
ReplyDelete