Come with me
bring your dog
your warm sweater
your bare feet
if you dare
bring your willingness
to sit still
to set sail
as life’s unfolding
takes your breath away.

Carol Carlisle


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.

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.

Is there a poem you had to memorize as a kid that comes back to you from time to time?

For Margo Rody Tuesday Tryouts Come with Me

23 thoughts

  1. I love Masefield’s poem. Let’s see. For school I had to memorise Stevenson’s poem about a train trip and Walter de la Mare’s ‘The Traveller’.

    i like your own sea poems very much.


    1. Thanks for the prompt so I could use my photo with a poem, too.
      I tried to cut and paste Masefield’s poem in twice and each time the Gypsy verse falls out ??

      Glad you like my wee sea little poem 🙂

      Seems as though school poetry memorizing didn’t turn you off to poetry 😀


    1. Ah finally WordPress took all three verses of Sea Fever…Funny how these poem connects of miles and years 🙂
      No matter where we live these lines do stir our longings.
      Thanks for the sweet sharing My Dear


  2. I and II are both wonderful. The second made me realize though how sometimes one does have to experience a thing for it to be ‘real’.
    The poem I remember having to learn (part of) was Longfellow’s “The Song of Hiawatha”. The rhythm made the words come alive to me.


  3. The whole – yours and the explanation, lovely. While a tad closer to the ocean…not close enough.
    My creek will have to do.

    As for that intimidating grammar school recital:

    I’m a little tea pot
    Short and stout
    When I get all steamed up this I shout
    Tip me over pour me out

    Oh, if it were that easy to dis-spell that which ails us…


      1. My creek isn’t for wading unless you are wearing shoes.
        It is muddy and has large snapping turtles. Don’t mind the ducks and geese. But I’d rather not disturb the otters or the muskrats. And the bass are just plain fun to watch. Especially after the fish folk stop coming by to catch them.


  4. Most of Scotland isn’t that far from the sea, and childhood memories of beaches, rocks, rowing boats and excursions remain in the minds of most of us. There’s still nothing quite like spending time by the sea, taking photos of sand, rocks, seaweed, and enjoying the special light to be found there.


    1. Sound like a beautiful place to grow up and live in.. A friend whose last name is is Tarbet just returned from Scotland can’t wait to hear her stories.
      Northern CA and Oregon have some wild places that seem like Scotland when I see them.


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