The Pebble Millie McLean
Layered and patterned , Rough against my fingers , Pretty and curved , So small in my palm .
Iridescent and bold , Beauty catching my eye , Building and crashing , Waves echoing in my ear .
Once abandoned and solitary , At the bottom of the sea , Then waiting and patient , For the tides to change .
Next , tumbled and thrown By tumultuous storms , Later , battered and bruised , By relentless waves .
Only to be abandoned once more . On the lonely seashore .