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Inside each twisting shell, Will a tiny creature dwell, And when its life is done, The shell is ours, what fun! All that's left to do at last, Is walk the beach, find it fast, For others with the same desire, Scour the sand, and never tire, The perfect shell, lucky catch, Nothing else could ever match, Our finding at the tidal stream, The collector's hope and sheller's dream.
 Seashells and Seashore Life Return to Conchology
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