Come with me
bring your dog
your warm sweater
if you dare
bring your willingness
to sit still
to set sail
as life’s unfolding
takes your breath away
As a kid in the 6th grade
in dry, land locked Oklahoma
I had to stand up in class and recite
John Masefield’s Sea Fever
it had little meaning for me but terror.
After more than fifty some years
I live within the sound of beckoning waves
so now the winds song and flying clouds
belong to me.
BY JOHN MASEFIELD
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking,
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
For Margo Rody Tuesday Tryouts Come with Me