Low tide is here, leaving tidal pools,
With all kinds of treasure left behind.
So I sit in the sand, and pull out my tools,
And start sorting the treasure so devine.
Two sand dollars I pick out of the brine,
And a big old shark's tooth in the sand.
I dropp it in my bucket it's now mine,
Gotta keep going while I still can.
All kinds of shells I stumble upon,
Little ones, big ones, an infinite stream.
But only a few will be going home,
Those special ones, someone saw in a dream.
Strombus, Sundials, and Nautilus shells,
The most beautiful ones I hold in my hand.
Along with a Starfish, that came in on a swell,
Glorious treasure, just lying in the sand.
7/7/10 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem