Pebble Island

Pebble Island

Written by my late sister-in-law.
Deirdre Travers.

I carved myself a country
though jagged rough and sharp,
It was rounded smooth and polished,
by the sound of an ancient harp.

I fashioned it out of solid rock
with veins of marble and gold,
and thought it could stand against the world
until time it self, grew old.

It wasn’t supposed to be very big
I didn’t want an empire,
just a place to be at peace
with more to give, than fear and fire.

To many, my rock was another dying day
just floating upon a sea.
God help them, all they saw was rock,
but it was beautiful to me.