where does the gravel come from
how can the sea but move
for many thunderous miles
the shells and rocks so smooth
and lay them as one on the beach
for two hundred yards or more
amid the cleanest and softest of sand

there's some half the size of a pea
of yellow brown and white
the black ones mixed in with the grey
truly a colorful sight
some striped some orange some green
but the one which seems all too few
is the color that's always my favorite
when will I find one of blue

those who've wandered for years
on beaches all around the land
will know of the longing frustration
a blue one to have in the hand
they're in all the fish ponds and maybe
it's paint which gives them their hue
but surely dear old mother nature
could knock out a few colored blue

tomorrow I'll go out again
in the beautiful glow of the dawn
wander for miles on a search
to see if my blue one has been born
holding on grim to the faith
akin to a clover of four
I know that in the sand there
is a glorious blue one for my score