Terry D. Sutherland
RHONDA
Rhonda began by sifting sand
While staying on the beach
Collecting shells in each hand
But the water she couldn’t reach
She sifted sand for hours
Collecting her precious shells
Through sunshine and showers
She collected them to sell
One sunny day in May
She was sifting on the beach
I think it was Mothers Day
She was going to give a speech
She packed her sieve and all her shells
And left the beach that day
Now she sells hair spray and gels
That she got for Mothers Day
©Copyright July 19, 2007 by Terry D. Sutherland