The Seashell
Call it beach fever, call it what you will. I’m yearning to see the ocean. The poem I posted a couple days ago A Seraphim’s Calling is one of my favorites – even though the author is unknown, it will always remain so. I’ve often wished I had one of my very own poems detailing my love for the ocean. My own tribute in a sense, to the sea.
I don’t tackle writing poetry anymore. I did write a few things when I was younger, but I never did really see anything special in any of them. I’d usually wind up stumped, halted in midstream, left with only half or part of ‘something’ – something that may have been nothing anyway. Why bother doing something that frustrates you, right? Well, I was looking at a few shells on my desk at work, thinking man, are they ever out of their element…
The 'inspirational' shells on my desk...
…and this one actually came fairly easy. Hope you like it. Obviously it doesn’t pay for me to think too long on any one subject – there’s just no telling where it’ll land me. 😉
The Shell
If I were to be but a shell
opalescent tan and blue
I’d have slivers of magenta
representing of me too.
My edges would be ultra smooth
my body voluptuous curving
my insides would be polished gleam
just as such deserving
If I were to be but a shell
my thoughts they would be few
just the magic of forever
consumed in all the new
I’d wander up upon a beach
where no one else dare walk
barren, fertile, and unknown
no piers, no nets, no docks
If I were to be but a shell
I’d roll on with the tide
to swim along with dolphins
in waves we would collide
In the moonlight I would lie
so motionless and still
biding time until the morn’
when sunlight brings new thrill
If I were to be but a shell
I’d drift on out to sea
along with all my comrades
to experience the free.
©Bonnie Melton, 2010
Life of Bon 
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