The winter storms have thrown the tideline high
Above the shingle where the hagstones lie
Buried amid the plastic detritus,
Jetsam of ships and summer barbecues.
Among the tar flecked litter you may find
An amber nugget, dull opaque and blind,
Waiting the craftsman's pleasure, to reveal
To all who seek to break the time worn seal,
The occult key to nature's mystery,
A million years of hidden history.