Sea Shell's On Shore

Upon the sandy shore, where waves touch,

Lie fortunes of the profound, presently let go.

Shells, similar to murmurs from the sea floor's,

Tell stories of excursions immense, thus considerably more.

Each shell, a vessel of a secret story,

Cut by the flows, in their perpetual path.

Smooth bends and twistings, made by the ocean,

Hold privileged insights of the past, standing by to be free.

In shades of pearl and ivory, they sparkle,

Repeating the sun's kiss in a fantasy.

Every one a show-stopper, a thing of beauty,

A demonstration of nature's caring heart.

A few shells, similar to old parchments, bear scars of time,

Scratched with accounts of flexibility, great.

They weather conditions tempests and tides with calm beauty,

Mirroring life's perseverance here.

Others, sensitive as murmurs on the breeze,

Discuss love and misfortune, no sweat.

Their delicate magnificence recounts delicate days,

Also, recollections that wait in the fog.

So let us stroll along the shore again,

Also, stand by listening to the insider facts they entreat.

For in the murmurs of the shells' melody,

We find the reverberations of where we should be.