The Boulder

The Boulder The anchor ripped through the seabed, lurching and banging trying to get a grip, Dragged forward at a pace, cutting grooves in the sand under, the belly of the ship. The anchor locks on to a great rock, knocking part of its shoulder, The loose rock rolls on down the side; in fact it is a boulder. The new boulder comes to rest on the bottom of the sea, Confused he looks all around and then realises - he is free. Whoopee, this is great, he sits there looking, because his view has finally changed. The boulder can’t believe his luck, to be free from the underwater range. He rolls around as the waves push forward bits, being knocked slowly from him. Many years down the line, he his is getting really quite thin. A great storm hits the sea one day, and lifts the rock high in its swirling waves, It pitches him so high and so far the rock himself cannot save. He is belched out at the end of the storm, and for the first time land, he does see. ‘Oh wow this is great,’ he say’s to the shell he finds next to him, as he rolls to a stop gently. This sun is hot how cool is that?, I’ve never seen anything like it, I really think its grand. The shell looks at the rock and asks “Do you really like this sand?” Just then a toddler walks on by, a bucket in his hand, he scoops the rock and shell up in a shovel full of sand. Well is bit annoying the rock says, it’s getting in my bits, Well you look quite smooth to me, the shell declared, trough his shell-like lips And don’t worry to much, the shell said his voice sounding near to tears Because that sand is us- in about a thousand years.