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Critical Analysis #2
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Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269
Pennsylvania

0 posted 2002-07-24 08:07 PM



The Shell

A spiral shell lay on the tide-washed sands,
a conch with polished marble walls
that echo not the sounds
of a silent mollusk,
but the rhythms of my heart

A cherished prize from the salty brine,
a gift of beauty,
a jewel to the eyes,
amystery to the mind

What creature made this exquisite palace home
with curved hallways that twist inward
to an unknown place?
A place to harbor
the secret joys within me

Was it Neptune who lifted you
from the depths of the sea floor
and caused you to settle here under an April moon
to be found by someone who would worship
the perfection of your form, and keep you
as a reminder of the
magnificence of life?

Along a vacant beach I strolled
at dawn, and found myself
wrapped in a shell of sea colors

Just as my body harbors a soul unseen,
so does this shell contain the mysteries,
the intrigue and the wonders of life
that spiral through my mind

If we could exchange places,
would you hold me in such reverence?
Would you ask me to tell you
the purpose of life?

If so, I would know and hold the silent answer
for I could only echo
the rhythms of your heart

Elizabeth Santos

© Copyright 2002 Elizabeth Santos - All Rights Reserved
jbouder
Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534
Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash
1 posted 2002-07-24 08:53 PM


Elizabeth:

This is a lovely poem.  It has been a while since I have read a poem like this.  The wonder you found in the simplicity of nature was refreshing, and the application to the your own life that you discovered in contemplating the mysteries of the shell was well executed.  Discovery of the shell ---> self-discovery.  I think you did this effectively.

It is good to be back, by the way.  I hope to read more of your work soon.

Jim

[This message has been edited by jbouder (07-24-2002 08:54 PM).]

WhiteRose
Member Elite
since 2002-07-23
Posts 3208
somebody's dungeon
2 posted 2002-07-25 08:52 AM


I have never been a shell collector. Then my daughter came along and her wonder at the mysterious shapes and sizes overwhelmed me I guess. Now I see them in a different way. This poem is lovely.
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