Mermaid Swimming Lessons
My sister is almost Stage 5,
she says that makes her a fish.
I tell her I met a mermaid once
and asked for swimming lessons.
Can you do dolphin wiggle?
my sister says, twisting her arms.
I explain that mermaids prefer
side flips, nose dips, tail jiggles.
My sister can swim a width underwater.
She asks if I have gills.
I answer Mermaids don’t hold their breath,
they imagine, then do. She giggles.
How deep can you dive? My sister wonders.
As far as your brain can think, I reply.
Mermaid powers are infinite
like the mysteries of a shipwreck.
Can you teach me? My sister begs,
her eyes wide and inviting.
Only a mermaid can speak of the sea,
I say as I shake off sand.
she says that makes her a fish.
I tell her I met a mermaid once
and asked for swimming lessons.
Can you do dolphin wiggle?
my sister says, twisting her arms.
I explain that mermaids prefer
side flips, nose dips, tail jiggles.
My sister can swim a width underwater.
She asks if I have gills.
I answer Mermaids don’t hold their breath,
they imagine, then do. She giggles.
How deep can you dive? My sister wonders.
As far as your brain can think, I reply.
Mermaid powers are infinite
like the mysteries of a shipwreck.
Can you teach me? My sister begs,
her eyes wide and inviting.
Only a mermaid can speak of the sea,
I say as I shake off sand.
This poem is copyright (©) Emma Phillips 2026
About the Writer
Emma Phillips
Emma Phillips lives, writes and teaches by the M5 in Devon, which sometimes lures her off in search of adventure. Her poetry for children can be found in Tyger, Tyger, The School Magazine, Little Thoughts Press and Paperbound, as well as here on the Dirigible Balloon. She is addicted to crisps.
