Stonehearts washed up on the beach
I walk the sand and down I reach
A rock, the shape of a small heart
With mottled marks and holes in parts
The size alike to human kind
Some are fat, some are fine
And shapes formed tilted, full or long
Some are tiny, others small.
But as I search there are none alike
These sea washed stones each have a plight
I pocket them and steal away.
At home I place them on a tray.
My collection of treasured hearts
Tossed by Mermaids, in the dark.
Only to be found by me
Stonehearts washed up from the sea.
Copyright © Jeralynn Clark