There is a place I used to go
When I was still a child
An untamed place filled with mysteries
A place where I could run wild.
Amongst the trees lay the stones
Which held secrets from long ago
I wondered how such big snail shells
Could possibly have come to grow
ston
Within the confines of the huge rocks
Which lie scattered in such profusion
On the bottom of the quarry floor
Which, to add to my confusion
Is eighty feet lower than the rest
Of the land which lies all around,
I wondered how it was possible
That such strange things could be found.
So at the age of seven years
I joined my local public library, where
In books that were provided for
The 'Great Unwashed' to share
I searched for, and found the answers
To the questions I had as to how
Those shells in rocks came to be,
And it still works for me now.
Tom Higgins 17/10/2014
Tom Higgins
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/are-we-there-yet-7/
