a children’s book by Charlotte Lowell
A still morning sea, the Deeps all asleep,
’til warmed by the sun they roll up the beach.
Some glide with a shush, some crash with a ROAR,
All eager to find what night left on shore.
Clamshells and starfish, smooth sea glass and stones.
Pieces of driftwood, washed pale as our bones.
Further and further, they draw up the sand,
Daring young Deeps, out exploring the land.
And look—someone’s here. It’s you, come to swim!
You kick off your shoes, run quick, and plunge in.
Hooray! cheer the Deeps, while lifting you high.
Let’s play! you call out, now splashing the sky.
They tumble and toss you, upside and down.
You flip, flop and float, no feet on the ground.
The games go for hours, as happens with friends.
A magical day that you hope never ends.
But after some time, a voice calls your name.
The Deeps feel a pull from back where they came.
They slip out to sea, you wave a farewell,
From two different worlds, one story to tell.
©1978, Southaven Press