Saturday, April 21, 2018

Down to the Beach

Because I love the sea, even when it is a #winterinspring day, a colleague suggested that I look at Masefield's below.  

Sea Fever

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.

🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊

MY THOUGHTS 

Beach Joy
by Carol Varsalona

I must go down to the beach again, to the tranquil beach and the bright sky,
And all I ask is a dancing kite and a traveling guide to float on by;
And the hum of the water and the wind's song and the rainbow kite's rising,
And a sandy sight on the beach's shore, and spring surprising.
I must go down to the beach again, for the hum of rippling waves
Is a lulling sound and a calming sound that my heart engraves.
      And all I ask is a spring day with soaring seagulls circling   
And the gritty sand and the blue sky, and waves sparkling.
I must go down to the beach again, to the restful summer life,
To the sun's way and the ocean's way where nature is without strife;
And all I ask is a great pose from a feathered plover,
     
And sunset night and a peaceful dream when the day's over.
©Carol Varsalona, 2018 
                                                      
🏖🏖🏖I join Tabatha Yeatts at her blog site where she is hosting Poetry Friday and poetry anthology for middle school students about mistakes, "Imperfect". This week has been a busy one with six presentations over four days and I kept dozing off as I finished this poem. I woke to see that the day turned into Saturday so this Poetry Friday post is marked the next day. 

"Our imperfections make us unique as surely as our strengths."
-Toni Sorenson