Turtle Lagoon

In my room I hold a turtle lagoon Though it's dry to the eye and the touch I avoid their disturbance, they require no survice Simply, in my room they have a niche Upon my selves I spy moving turtle shells Without a turtle inside to see As miracles they are hidden, by the use of this disguise To negate the fact that they're free They perform the former by winding the stormer and forcing my room to sway On their backs, I find my nacks That they travel and lose, But in my space they stay Only now is it obvious what my sight obligates It is my responsability to find and write But what's curious to me, but expected by we, is that I'm the only one with this sight