After hail and storms I see the snails
On the rubber doormat and the stones
Encrusted shells the blind might read as braille
The shell made to protect is very frail
I trod on several, cracks like breaking bones
After heavy rain I see the snails
The lion whose fire and strength will never fail
The sea creatures so large , they look like drones
Compare them to the perfect broken snail
In the Bible read the warning tales
Temptation,,murder, envy, honeycombs
God our Lord a lion or a snail?
Come to that, how can God be a male?
How can God approve the gold of Rome?
She is a perfect sacred sweet shelled snail
On the beach are empty shells, washed foam
Abandoned. they survive their use as homes
After storm and tempest ,here are snails
Encrusted shells their decor and their grace