Adrift

A sandy length of Beach,

Shaded by the palms,

Lines the Sea of Naught,

There I walk alone,

Pick a shell or two,

Compare the patterns drawn

By the rushing wind

Working with the sand

And polished by the brine

Suspended in the sea;

They conceal the words

That tell of battles won

By many a conquering heart

Brimming with their love

For the little nymphs

Dancing on the waves

On the beats of Hearts

In the starlit nights

That mock a crescent Moon.