On quiet days I walk along the seashore Tide on the turn - leaving all kinds of finds
Washed up on the beech by the sea
Sea shells - their for lives that inhabit them
Etan by gulls or other sea overflying the sea
Looking for tasty morsels - the sea provides

A leaded fishing weight - without it's hook attached
A fishing man unhappy at losing weight
Maybe a fish now had the hook into its gill
Or maybe a greedy gull regretting it had been greedy
Coursing it's opportunist gull's mind - sadly awaits it's fate
Walk on - looking down on to sea-washed sands
Wondering what more has arrived in by the tide

A stone or maybe a rock - catches my eye
I pick it up , washed smooth by the sea many many times
Orange looking - on a closer look - I see what is maybe
Seams of other stones within the stone or is a rock?
The stone or is a rock - probably as old as the earth itself

Has a history of the earth - fits snugly in my hand
Oh what a fascinating history - story - a geologist could tell from
Just looking at the part - a piece of rock or is it stone?
Walking along the sea sure - prospecting - I carry on looking
You just don't know just what I will find as I walk along the seashore

To walk along the sea sure - is safer than walking the undercliff

You see due to globule worming - the chalk cliffs tend to crack
Sending thousands of tons to chalky cliffs below
In years to come - my hometown will be Britain's Atlantis!
Not that many locally give a monkey or cares
When it is too late - then they will bleat - when the sea reclaims their homes -
Built on chalk!

I turn - ready to trudge my way home

Ken D. Williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith Ov Thanet