Oh, take me to the northern sea,

the surging breakers’ sudden rush,

the ankle-slap of stinging shale,

and sinking sand beneath me.


To taste again that purer air,

a splash of salt upon my lips,

and shudder at the sudden clutch

of seaweed floating underfoot.


To shield my eyes against the glare

of sun-shot brilliance, sparkling white,

and watch the sails of distant yachts

swerve and dip till out of sight.


The sun dried tang of lobster-pots,

the roughened ropes securely tied,

discarded buoys and fishing nets,

that serve as bait for buzzing flies.


To hear those screaming herring gulls

and watch their kamikaze dives

beneath that crashing rodeo,

the ceaseless swell of icy waves.


Oh, to leave this land-locked place,

this ancient valley, walled in rock

to walk beside the restless sea

whose moods reflect the same in me.


So take me to that distant shore,

that other realm, to hear once more,

the northern ocean’s seething roar,

and let the world slip by me.

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