Seashells

[hyudda]

 Seashells

I think of old lovers,
Turning them over
Like pretty shells.
And I dont regret a thing;
Least of all
Giving up shell collecting,
For you.

I'll leave them then,
For the seagulls and the shrieking children,
Now I've found my bed,
Amongst the seaweed 
And salt spray.

And I'll comb the beach
With you now, love.
Finding pathways,
And castle-building,
Always keeping one step ahead
Of the tide.