Song Of The Seashell

Grandma has a shell.  It's big and white and opens out like a wave on the beach.  The inside of it is pink and smooth.  She says I can pick it up as long as I use both hands. I like to hold it from the inside; my fingers curve underneath into a hidden chamber.  If I could shrink down and slip inside, I bet I'd slide round and round like on a spiral slide.
     I love to hold the shell to my ear and listen to the ocean roar.  Some adults say it is only the noise outside your head, echoing inside the shell.  Grandma says, don't listen to them. They may be grown up but they still are not old and wise enough to understand.  Grandma says, keep believing and if you listen very hard and are very lucky, you might hear the mermaids sing.