The Conch Shell

The coarsened name belies this silken treasure,

with iridescent dome and spiral apse.

Imagination slips inside with pleasure,

to behold the opus of blown glass.


Perhaps a queen lived here (not homely pauper),

within these walls of vaulted pedigree,

with sheets of silk moiré and pearl-lined coffer,

and deep in strains of Handel symphony.


But if a pauper, she was very clever—

as well, a soul of generosity—

to create such beauty, and forever

bequeath to us the mystery of the sea.


Does it work? Ask children passing near.

Listen! All of Time is what you hear.


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