In clearer water surely lies

A purer rainbow shell -

A silver fish who glides as though

He were liquid-formed as well.

 

But here I spy, in this murky pool,

The armour of a snail.

It shines not, no iridescent sheen

No shimmering fin or scale,

 

It’s twisted shape, like a lover’s plot

May come in mottled brown.

But looking close, see it’s earthy stripes –

There’s a story to be found.