Sea Glass

A poem about sea glass, so false, so true;

little pieces of history, so old, so new;

roughed up by the waves, smoothed by the sea;

broken by others, rescued by me;

my son sought a treasure, little glasses he found;

there’s no way of telling, how long they’ve been ’round;

they’re salty, they’re smooth, they’ve been away miles;

on the tide they drift, oceans of styles;

there’s flat and round and smoky and plain;

there’s chunky and printed, and salty again;

the sand is the culprit, it grinds and it churns;

the sea helps the process, it twists and it turns;

many colors can be found, if you know where to seek;

under the driftwood, just take a peek;

the perfect piece of sea glass, toted home like a treasure;

add to my other ones, for years of pleasure.