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Pebbles
I am but a humble pebble that has been washed up upon this poetic beach I will stay a while but if seas get rough ...
3purplepebbles
15/F/South Carolina    ;
Katie Pebbles Green
22/F/England    A lost and found writer fighting recovery through beautiful poetry hoping to connect with fellow lost and found souls

Poems

Natalie Apr 2018
like a picnic on pebbles
you held me close
and told me to remember this moment forever

like a picnic on pebbles,
the rocks left red marks on hands and legs
but i didn't care
because picnics on pebbles meant you and me

like the last picnic on pebbles,
i planned everything out
and waited
for you to appear
on our palace of stones
and you never did
and stone by stone
our palace fell apart

like last week
i saw our kingdom
rebuilt
except there was a new queen
i had no power over the picnics on pebbles

like picnics on pebbles
i brushed off the redmarks
and built a new palace
where i was queen
George Krokos Nov 2010
It was from the sands of a windswept beach
I picked up pebbles that were easy to reach.
They had attracted my attention while walking by
their coloured well formed shape caught the eye.

There were so many to choose from I had to decide
in selecting those which my fancy would coincide.
It’s truly amazing what some people see in stone
a subject which a lot of our imagination is prone.

It was almost as if I’d found treasure on the seashore
and couldn’t help myself as I looked around for more.
The simple joy of collecting something that attracts the mind
is an age old activity which all people do have of some kind.

There were the questions of how many would I take
and what, if anything with them, one could make?
They were so abundant and all varied mostly in size
that it wasn’t hard to imagine an object or visualize.

It was also only the first location at which I found
that I thought surely there must be others around.
So with a sense of adventure I looked forward to explore
another beach while making my way home along the shore.

There were several other stops made further on the way
collecting various coloured pebbles amidst the sea spray.
Many times would I get my sandals wet along that coast
going amongst rocks and sand to the waters edge at most.

It was with a sense of gain and loss then after I’d taken enough
deciding right there and then to stop collecting which was tough.
The next step would be to think about and see what I would do
with all those beautiful pebbles gathered while passing through.

Maybe I could approach someone with the right flair and skill
who could make something with them and imagination fulfill.
That natural forming eroding action of water, ice, wind and sand
rarely requires the finishing touches of some other skillful hand.

Perhaps in fashioning some jewellery using metal to bind
a few pebbles together that are different or a similar kind.
Or maybe I could just keep some myself and give the rest away
a gesture of friendship toward which our memories would play.

Yes it was from the sands of many a windswept lonely beach
I came accross and collected pebbles that were within reach.
Isn’t it truly amazing what some people see in stone?
a subject in which much of our imagination is prone.
Private Collection - written in 1997
Danilo P Cabrera Mar 2015
the pebbles on this beach,  
each one a memory,
reminders of the time,
that belonged you and me,

when we walked hand in hand,
with bare feet on moist sand,
into the horizon,
like the ocean does with land,

we collected these pebbles,
as jewels from the sea,
you liked the oval ones,
I liked all you gave to me,

I found some more pebbles,
unlike any I've seen,
I wish you could see them,
they're kind of aquamarine,

if love were like pebbles,
mine would blanket this shore,
endlessly forever,      
like I promised you before,

the pebbles on this beach,
I keep them here with me,
same place you left them,
right where they'll always be.
© Danilo Cabrera. All rights reserved