The boy's treasure
A boy brought home
Three rabbits and a
peacock
All made from shells
Glued together by deft
hands
His first school
picnic
And first visit to a
sea shore
Walking through the
sandy path
The sound of waves
loud and clear.
Kiosks lined on either
side
Curios all made from
shells.
Shapes and shades
unimaginable
Crafted by street
artisans
Setting sun soon to
disappear
Silver sand a golden
hue,
Slowly darkened by the
dimming rays
Hit the shores and
meekly return
To leave behind
discarded shells
Once home to snails
and clams.
The shells lay
scattered on the beach
Each crafted by
nature’s hand
With colour and
perfection
No skill could match.
Floating in the
receding waves
Some shells to the sea
return
And some lie in the
sand
Embedded and never to
return.
Three decades later
The boy’s treasure
Showcased in his living room
Made him walk down the
memory lane.
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