The seaside is a treasure chest
Summoning the seeker with
Rhythmic billows
Alive with a million marvels
Waiting ever so patiently for
One willing to stoop
And truly See
Miles away, its waves still ripple
Upon my heart’s shore –
A kept seashell’s whirl
Inviting me to bend low and,
In stillness, follow its shimmering
Spiral toward treasures
Curled within
July 16, 2020
A poem born from the wonder of seashells gathered at the Pointe du Conguel in Quiberon on July 15.
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