I must go back to Cornwall again
at least one more time before I die
and all I ask is a sunshine, not rain,
on my walks for my dog and I.
I must go back to Cornwall if I may:
to eat fish and chips by the sea
or a Cornish pasty every day
and at least one cream tea.
I must go back to Cornwall to the cliffs
overlooking a deep blue sea
so I can watch ships and skiffs.
That seems like Heaven to me.
I must go back to Cornwall when I die
and there on a beach I would like to lie,
in the sand dunes, under a clear blue sky
the ashes of my dogs and I.
With apologies to John Masefield
with whom I share a common ancestor
Sea Fever
by John Masefield
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.
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.
Recent Comments