the rock at the beach

I once picked up a rock at the beach
It was all covered in sand and weed
It was just as far as my hand would reach
And gave in it did without as much as bid

I put it in my pocket and went my way
Splashing about and enjoying the sunshine
When it went down marking the end of my day
I hurried home and settled with my wine

I took the rock to my hands and glanced
Taking my time and turning it over
Watching the colours as they glowed and danced
Wondering just how much I could discover

I took out my sandpaper and file
Holding it to the light and scouring it bald
Must admit it took quite a while
But I finally held a gleaming emerald

I had it acquainted with my wrist
After I had it put on a band of leather
And though it gets a little bit of mist
To part with it I would never!