seashells.

On an ocean shore,
a breeze so gentle,
so sweet,
with clouds Devine,
where waves do meet,
stood a young lady in silence,
the world at her feet,
afraid to enter the waters so deep.
She looked around for comfort,
Something more to hold,
she noticed her reflection,
Her face had grown so old.
A long time she stood there,
frozen in her mind,
in her hand a seashell,
she held it all that time.