Walt Whitman
Song of Myself
You sea! I resign myself to you
Also - I guess what you mean.
I behold from the beach your crooked inviting fingers,
I believe you refuse to go back
Without feeling of me,
We must have a turn together,
I undress, hurry me out of sight of the land,
Cushion me soft,
Rock me in billowing drowse,
Dash me with amorous wet,
I can repay you.
Photo taken on a Suffolk beach.
(Not one of my own poems!...I wish...but I love this .)
__Very interesing photo, and Gerry, this chosen verse... complements so well. Lovit! _m
ReplyDeleteWhitman certainly did enough in the Civil War to not owe the sea any debt of comfort he derived from the water which would have rocked and cleansed him. Have you heard the story of how he first marketed the first version of Leaves of Grass? whatta guy!
ReplyDeleteI love Walt Whitman but didn't know this one Gerry. Lovely photograph too.
ReplyDeletethankyou kind bloggers. I'm reading a lot again and rediscovering works I had pushed to the back of my memories.
ReplyDeleteah nice...this makes me yearn for the sea...what a wonderful breeze of verse..
ReplyDeletewhitman had such an amazing way with words ...they still need to be read and mulled over!
ReplyDeleteGerry, I knew there was something I had just seen about Walt Whitman when I wrote about the calamus the other day. And now I've discovered what it was! That you've had one of his poems in the first day of March. I understand better now. I am so distrait. That's a way to excuse my elusive memory.
ReplyDeleteI haven't yet found a calamus-poem for my blog. Have you? It's like those poems all belong together and cannot be split.
Cheers
to Gerry
from
Grethe
in
little
Denmark!