SOUND OF THE SEA
I’d love to gather seas shells along a sandy shore,
Feel the warmth of the sun on my back once more.
Hear the beckoning sound of the pounding of the sea,
Listen, can you hear it calling loud and clear to me?

Not even the sounds of a mighty lake will ever heal
The calling of the sea that so deep within I do feel,
Somewhere in my blood a sailor there must surely be,
Or else why does the restless sea forever beckon me.

Yet to the sixteen hundreds no sailor yet is found,
Just regular folks in cities or ploughing the ground,
So why, oh, why are you calling, so loud and clear
And why does no one else hear it so who is so near?

It’s years since I’ve seen the sea in it’s majesty and grace,
No chance of ever living within it’s sound, not a place
Where we can build a small cottage near the storming sea,
So ever while I live will the wild sea keep calling me.

M Ann Margetson March 31, 2002