In light of it being the Month of July and the glorious month of our nation's birthday, here's a poem called 'free' for all of you to enjoy...
Weary am I of the tumult, sick of the
staring crowd,
Pining for wild sea places where the
soul may think aloud.
Fled is the glamour of cities, dead
as the ghost of a dream,
While I pine anew for the tint of
blue on the breast of the
old Gulf Stream.
I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I
shirk the blame;
I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life
and paid the price
of shame;
But I know that I shall find surcease, the
rest my
spirit craves,
Where the rainbows play in the flying
spray,
‘Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves.
Then it’s ho! for the plunging deck of a
bark,
the hoarse song of
the crew,
With never a thought of those we left or
what we are going
to do;
Nor heed the old ship’s burning, but break
the shackles
of care
And at last be free, on the open sea, with
the trade wind in
our hair.
– Eugene O’Neill
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