Finding Sea-Shells After Dawn

After dawn Barefoot still in the Autumn cool Over the welcome pebbles The girl with golden hair And the white dress About her went Looking for sea-shells. No, Not romantic, but cool Of temperature and Waters soft That to the feet In welcome rose and Rolled. The winter That rolled waves above The pebbles Adding roaring of pebbles to Roar of waves and spume No, No that winter was not come For Autumn had to make its case Well in the Court of Climes: And Yielded not an inch. The ever-rising sun Will soon Dispel the girl and The sea-shells that remain Will breathe in quiet In the rays of day. Yet She will come again After dawn Barefoot still in the Autumn cool Over the welcome pebbles The girl with golden hair And the white dress About her went Looking for sea-shells.