A SeaShells Tale of Ocean Lore
Adon at a young age, and still before his great
journey to Avalon, discovered his special gift of
scrying sea-shells when wading the shorline of
the Mastedon Sea.
As Adon walked slowly and while he admired a snow-
white seagull's flight, he stepped on a underlying
seashell. He yelped in pain as the sharp edge cut
into the sole of his foot. He reached down to take
the shell up with the ambition to chunk the shell
clear across the vast sea only to find it attractive
in it's mysterious blue color that seemed to shade-
shift from various depths of rich and neon blues.
Adon took the shell and put it to his ear to listen
and as he listened he discovered a beautiful voice
that sung to him a song of the merfolk:
On the washed up trail of the Ocean Shore,
a sheashell tells a tale of ocean lore.
Of a mermaide who found the door,
from the ocean floor to the world above.
She travelled to the ocean shore
and met with an ancient Mastedon
who would charge her a single kiss for his magical chore
soon she would walk the world above.
He told her that in order for
her to keep her mortal form
that before the next full moon rose
she would have to fall in love.
On the washed up trail of the ocean shore,
a seashell tells this tale of love.
As she passes way through the door
into the world above.
She wandered from the ocean shore
and even now in this distant land,
still nourishing her bewildered mind,
she finds amazement on dry land.
She fancy's the fragrant lawns
with trees bearing shade.
The constant blankets of flowers,
where time again she lays.
She fancy's the moonshine and the dew,
the birds who swim throw the aire.
The crying of the billowed clouds
with drops of the ocean to share.
Seven days drift away,
her path leads upon a river.
Here she finds a man taking a bath,
more astonishment, more bewilder.
>From a distance she admires
and fancy's her new behelt,
who now emerges from his bath
with all the grace of stealth.
This man soon finds he's not alone
when a pair of eyes he meets,
emerge from a flowered bush,
with a scent of mystery.
Minutes soon pass and fly away
neither think to speak,
for the passion in each others eyes
state to each no need.
Twilight drifts, silent lips,
by the river hand in hand.
As the Moon rises high and full
They hear the Mastedon chant,
"For the payment of a kiss
and an agreement fulfilled in time,
to the mermaide thy wish granted,
a destined mortal life."
Avalon Publication (Feburary 2001)