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