Memories of the poem, The Shell
Yesterday, I felt really happy to receive a comment from Marsha about a post I made on April 3, 2011, about a hauntingly lovely poet, The Shell. Marsha also remembered it from learning it in high school.
It begins with:
AND then I pressed the shell
Close to my ear
And listened well,
And straightway like a bell
Came low and clear
The slow, sad murmur of the distant seas,
Whipped by an icy breeze
Upon a shore
Wind-swept and desolate.
It’s by by James Stephens. Do you remember this poem? It has stayed with me over the years.
I thought it would be easy to find a photo among all of my 100s, maybe 1000s, of photos to illustrate this post, but it seems I’ve always taken pictures of the beach either in sunlight or with footprints in the sand, so my beach pictures look cheery and with evidence of humanity. Do you have a photo that evokes the desolate mood of The Shell?
