27 May 2012
You all stare back at me through the glass.
Stolen treasures,
Like the tomb-raiders of old,
Contraband items
So they said at security.
Who can make nature contraband?
Creams and peaches
Faded by salt,
Glistening,
Nestled in Sinai sand and coral.
Creation at its finest ,
It's most beautiful and pure.
Weathered by waves
You still sing the ocean,
Another world cascading from you
Where Osiris' chest
Lies in the Great Green Sea,
Where a rainbow of nature swirls in Neptune's cup,
The land of your birth,
Jewels hewn from the depths,
Now captured on my desk.
She Sells Seashells • Opuss № I