My Shell House

When you look, you see some wood and shells.
When I look, I see some wood, shells and memories.

The swish of the paint brush indented in the dark black paint.
I remember painting.
The patterns of the tide painted on to the seaside canvas.
I remember finding.

A summers day at the beach.
Over 100 shells in the sand.
One shell always seems stands out.
So, as I walk by I pick it up and it joins my collection.

Back in my bedroom, my shell house awaits,
For its brand new member.
A spare bit of wood waiting for its shell,
Hoping that it will be here soon.

As I arrive back, I give my new found shell a bath,
I then take it to its bit of wood.
A shell, that was once surround by its own kind.
Now holds the memories of a day at the beach. Just like the other shells that now surround it.

When you look, you see some wood and shells
When I look, I see wood shells and memories.