"Thar is corle like bubles and brane, corle with gulowr. I seek it. I seek it."
Wow. This poem makes ME want to go seek corle too, or at least sit quietly with my thoughts as I contemplate a corle reef. Julia makes the seeking of corle feel like such a soul-searching journey, I can't help but want to do it myself, especially if I can see corle with gulowr.
"I am a bulga whall so big and so brite. I am a bulga shing my ligt."
I love how happy the bulga whall is. It make ME feel happy too.
"Thar is a zoo in the ocan. I know it. I know it."
And to convince us of the ocanic zoo we get a picture of a little elf with the word "zoo" on her tunic.
"Pigs are safe in the ocan cas they don't get hntid."
Yes. Pigs ARE safe in the ocan. Except for the fact that they can't live under water because they would DROWN. Or get eaten by a shark.
"Wiy das this fish look so fine? Wiy das this anjle fish glidre with divind."
I had to double-check with the author on this one, since my kindergarten-spelling translation abilities only extend so far. The final sentence is, in fact, "Why does this angel fish glitter with divine?"
Now that is seriously poetic.
"Dolfan are so quwt they are my fafrit thing."
I think dolfans are Auntie Shannon's fafrit thing too, Julia!
"I'm a shark and I live in the ocan. I'm a shark and I mack lots of cmoshan."
GOOD RHYMING, Julia! Bonus points for the rhyme being relevant to the subject of the poem.
"I have 8 tentikle that macks me feel so speshle. Im an octipoos."
So, it turns out that it's NOT just moms that are speshle. An octipoos is speshle too!
"I'm a vipre fish and wish I cood eat you. Your dulishis."
Woah, this one is awfully ominous. I mean, I appreciate that I'm dulishis and all, but I'm kind of creeped out that the vipre fish wants to eat me. Especially because vipre fish are bottom-dwellers, so I would have had to be previously ripped apart by a shark or something before my dulishis flesh floats down to where the vipre fish is hanging out.
Maybe I'm overthinking this one.
"I'm an eyle. I have so much fun obuv in the sun."
I've never seen a sun-bathing eyle myself, but I'll suspend my disbelief and pretend the eyle has lungs and can lay out on a beach towel having some good ol' summer fun.
"I arf like a syle. I swim like a syle cas I am a syle."
Wait -- REALLY? You're a syle? Wow, this totally stumped me. I would NEVER have guessed that the protagonist of a poem called "Syle" would ACTUALLY turn out to be a syle.
Well, folks, Julia has done it AGAIN. Turned out another book of deep and lyrical poems. Is there any genre this kid WON'T master by the time she's in first grade??
All I have left to say is: I walk like a human, I talk like a human cas I am a human.
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