Monday Sonnet: Pebble's Lament

If I’d been born a pebble by the shore,
My life would be significantly easier.
Were I in love, I wouldn’t try to please her
With sonnets; I’d sleep flat; I could ignore
This shoddy English weather. But the wish
Within my core would be the same, albeit
In other forms: to quell my thirst, and wait
Till tossed amid the peace of dark and fish.
Could I be lulled by you the way the sea
Would lull that stone, to know your tides, to hear
Your every Yes and No, beneath the tree
Of some old sail, or washed by heaven’s tears…
Though time would be too short before you’d see
Me swept to land – a mere ten thousand years…