• Hugh Loxdale

The Beachcomber

I spied my love beachcombing

Down at the ocean’s edge,

Her golden hair a glowing

As was her last made pledge…

To find some Ship’s treasure,

Cast off on this rugged shore,

So that we may live in comfort

And work never more.

Alas, the beach was stony,

With little to reward the eye,

Save for the dramatic scenery

And the bowl of hazy sky.

As Time passed, with nothing found,

Her desire began to wane,

Until at length she plucked a pebble, -

‘A Conglomerate’ was her refrain.

And clutching this worthy triumph,

We struggled back for home,

My love for her eternal

Just as the tumbling foam.

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