The Call of the Sea
Hark, it is the sea that lures me,
It murmurs slowly, it roars out loud.
It brushes lightly on the shingles,
It washes roughly brackish crags,
And as its moods yields to its whims,
It holds me firmly in its spell,
It holds me in its everlasting thrill.
Every blessed day it sings to me
Just like a siren, magical and forlorn,
And calls me back to her enticing grip.
Oft I may wander in some country glen,
Or climb a mountain high,
Still in my mind I hear the call,
Haunting and taunting,
Enticing and beckoning,
Till my lonely soul would yearn
To smell the briny spray of mighty waves,
To sail upon the gentle breakers,
To feel the salty wind ruffle my hair.
Quick, quick, I run towards the shore,
I launch my little boat onto the choppy waves,
My tiller quivers, my sail flutters,
Soon around me I behold
Vast endless expanse of celestial hues,
And smell the mighty fragrance of the blue.
The wondrous breezes gently blow
As smoothly as we glide to islands Greek,
To new adventures and delightful views,
That kindles warmth within my ancient soul.
Shores fade away, mistily, afar,
I am alone at last like a lonely cloud,
Horizons loom or recede so near, so far,
Inviting, luring, restless as my love.
Mesmerized I steer my little boat away,
Ahoy there, let no one stop my way.
For now I am alone and tranquil,
Alone at last with my delightful dream:
The sea that I love so much.
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