Sonnet # 20

Threading through the fingers of the soft grass
As they waterfall down upon the shore
Whose golden sands are as my thoughts, Alas!
Drowned out beneath the waves eternal roar
To cry in vain of depths to be explored
No more, a beauty blended with the rest
Lost, under where the flighted creatures soar
My conceptions, jus one of natures jests
Who took it as a challenge and a test
To take command and turn themselves to pearls
To triumph and to speak of sparkles blest
As if they were the only in the world

The tide rises, to carry them away
To a new shore, to another souls bay

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