My Shell

Passed down in an old box
Hope and happiness lies within it.
White as a white chocolate magnum it lays in my hands.

I can hear the shell echoing in it as I put the shell to my ear.
It comes from my old beach hut, in far north Queensland.
Generation by generation it gets passed down through my family.
Now my beach hut is sold like I have dropped it into the sea never to be seen again.
In it lies its own world a sad world,
It’s been tumbled shifted and carried through rough waters and whirling winds.
Now all it does is sits there like a long forgotten toy.