There was a time when liquids we packaged in coloured glass bottles which when discarded, broke and tumbled relentlessly by the surf, yielded these precious stones and memories

In Praise of Coloured Bottles

Cobalt blue and ruby red
Polished and glazed
Or with a velvet touch
Precious stones once
Found amid the pebbles
by curious children
Searching the sea shore
Treasures long gone
Except as memories
As I walk a plastic
Littered beach

Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2017-05-04 at 02:21

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jim The PoetBay support member heart!
So true, and a good poem. We called it "beach glass." Now, yes, plastic litter. It's awful.

In the woods I still find a blue or green or brown bottle, ages old, broken or unbroken, testament to lives that came and went.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
The glass half empty. The glass half full. Yes, I'll take the pretty colored shards of glass bottles over the plastic ones, but only after their razor edges have been rubbed away.

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Days long gone
looking for discarded bottle on the sands
taking them back, given penys inexchange
no broken glace to cut feet! Bottles recycald long befor it became a fad
glass washed by ageless sea's, smooth, looks right prity
days back thn, ut happy memorys
now lifs all plastike

Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
How I yearn for those days again. Remember when it was okay for kids to walk along beeches collecting shells and stones. Now it mostly just discarded plastic junk. Bring back the old re-usable clear clean glass bottle.