Collecting Pebbles Poem by George Krokos

It was from the sands of a windswept beach
I picked up pebbles that were easy to reach.
They had attracted my attention while walking by
their coloured well formed shape caught the eye.

There were so many to choose from I had to decide
in selecting those which my fancy would coincide.
It’s truly amazing what some people see in stone
a subject in which a lot of our imagination is prone.

It was almost as if I’d found treasure on the seashore
and couldn’t help myself as I looked around for more.
The simple joy of collecting something that attracts the mind
is an age old activity which all people do have of some kind.

There were the questions of how many would I take
and what, if anything with them, one could make?
They were so abundant and all varied mostly in size
that it wasn’t hard to imagine an object or visualize.

It was also only the first location at which I found
that I thought surely there must be others around.
So with a sense of adventure I looked forward to explore
another beach while making my way home along the shore.

There were several other stops made further on the way
collecting various coloured pebbles amidst the sea spray.
Many times would I get my sandals wet along that coast
going amongst rocks and sand to the waters edge at most.

It was with a sense of gain and loss then after I’d taken enough
deciding right there and then to stop collecting which was tough.
The next step would be to think about and see what I would do
with all those beautiful pebbles gathered while passing through.

Maybe I could approach someone with the right flair and skill
who could make something with them and imagination fulfill.
That natural forming eroding action of water, ice, wind and sand
rarely requires the finishing touches of some other skillful hand.

Perhaps in fashioning some jewellery using metal to bind
a few pebbles together that are different or a similar kind.
Or maybe I could just keep some myself and give the rest away
a gesture of friendship toward which our memories would play.

Yes it was from the sands of many a windswept lonely beach
I came accross and collected pebbles that were within reach.
Isn’t it truly amazing what some people see in stone?
a subject in which much of our imagination is prone.