What a glorious colour I am
Even finer when waves
Or raindrops dampen me
A muted claret
With a suggestion
Of the yeast that turns
grapes to deep red wine.
Subtle speckles tell of secret crystals within
Light-catching flecks enhancing my beauty.
Go on!
Spit on me and make me shine again.
I’m no hagstone
Not for skimming.
I am smooth and rounded
No sharp edges
I fit in the hand
Like I live there.
My shape speaks of my great age
How I have been
Bashed and pummelled
By waves and other stones
None are as magnificent as me
None as luscious red
I am the queen of the beach
A pebble for the pocket
A pebble to hold
A pebble for comfort
A pebble to keep.
