Niarraha
I scavenge through sand
Shattered shells
Beneath bare feet,
No crabs or shrimp dwell-
In rock pools of shallow or deep,
Pebbles shine soft
Colours blend in
No history found,
Patience wears thin.
Alas, it has been founded,
A lost silver ring,
Made for a wedding
Where merry choir doth sing.
Sand grains fall silent
As the shiny hoop is cleaned
And tears of warm
Express what merry weds hath dreamed.
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Thank you for wasting your time reading my poetry. I often use old words because I'm quite traditional.