And so it were,
Whilst I lay counting the grains in sand,
The surf kept passing me by.
It kept telling me stories,
But the sand was grainy,
The sand was coarse,
The sea was salty,
And my feet were sore.
The waves had a rhyme,
A song for my heart,
But I kept building castles
Of sand and conches rare.
Were I to hear a conch speak,
The wild tales of the ocean deeps,
But of truth,none I knew,
For I passed my evening
Ignoring sounds of a heart rare.
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