Oh how many tragic tears,
Must mermaids weep each day?
To leave behind the trail of gems,
Washed up on the shore in the bay.

Beautifully sculpted sea glass,
Is mermaid’s tears they say,
But it may be magical, mystical dust,
Sprinkled by mermaids at play.

Maybe the sparkling pieces of glass,
Were not really theirs to keep,
So every day, when the tide goes out,
They toss them back onto the beach.

Perhaps they’re being playful,
Teasing us into their game,
They sprinkle treasures for us to find,
Not to join them would be a shame.

My imagination is greatly piqued,
As I comb the beach, deep in thought.
Walking along the ocean floor,
To see what the tide has brought.


- Annabel Sheila
  Submitted By: Nancy Crossman