The shell
Look what a beautiful shell of ivory white
Recently thrown at the sands by the rushing tide
See what a lovely shell a pad of a soft sloth snail
Small and pure without the notoriety of a pearl
Lying on the back of sand hill so nigh to my foot
Brittle, frail spared by the violent breakers loot
Oh what mind what hand has made it so fairly well
Ah, empty, vacant from the creature that within it dwells
Its delicate spire and whorl
How exquisitely are weaved its stripes of colors in whole
A miracle of design, that lives through ancient time
No less in beauty and charm than a poet rhyme
A piece of beauty is called a 'shell' by man
Not a pearl, not a jewel but unmoving dull clumsy name
A 'shell' which does not recall any treasure or historical fame
Let him who did not create it call it as he can
He who passes by it without notice, this pleasure from his eyes to ban
Yet this beauty holds in the sands and its charm contends the same
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poem by Isaac Ziv
Added by Poetry Lover
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