Pebbles
Moulded by unseen hands, manganese smart
Iron red or marbled with white stripes
Of sugary quartz, engineered by sea machines
The people-pebbles roll in on themselves
Prism-wrapped, warped by Titans and sea-gnomes
Cracking and crashing the lode to its gobstopper
Finality, a seed or a dream deep in the core
The nucleus black as a pip, or pale as a pod
Half a pound, or a tonne in a bag
Made of sea wrack or cabbage
Which the wind bends into cones
Taking some home, deep in their hearts
Names written, rock upon rock
Suck them, rot teeth and suck on the aeons
Or leave in their place for others
To ponder and roll in their hands.
All rights reserved Veronica Aldous 2015
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Congratulations, all the best. I hope you sell a million!
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Thank you Malcolm, I remember our poetry readings in your gallery with affection.
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