It has hit me again. That deep longing for the sea. Do you know what I mean? For you it might be the mountains or a bustling city. It doesn’t matter where it is…just that place that is calling to your soul.
lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer
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
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
And all I ask is a windy day with the white
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
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the
long trick’s over.
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“The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.