Roadways

Dear Mama,

When I decided to dedicate this project to you, I knew I wanted to include a poem about the sea. I know how you love the ocean, even though we rarely get to visit it. After witnessing the joy our trip to the eastern shore last summer brought you, I now know that if there’s anywhere in the world you could be, it would be somewhere by the sea.

John Masefield had a similar longing. When he was very young, his mother died in childbirth and his father followed soon after. He went to live with his aunt, and ended up going to boarding school. Overall, he had a pretty unhappy childhood. Eventually he left boarding school and went off to train for a life as a sailor. Here, he seemed to finally find his happiness. He grew to love to hear stories and songs about the ocean which fostered his love of reading and writing. He abandoned being a sailor to become a writer, but many of his poems speak fondly about the sea.

“Sea Fever” is probably Masefield’s most popular poem on the subject, but “Roadways” appealed to me more and reminded me more of you. There isn’t a consistent rhyme scheme throughout, but I think its layout is more appealing overall. The speaker talks about how the sea is constantly calling to him, and luring him back. It reminded me of you, because you grew up on the shore. I know that whenever you’re there, you feel a sense of coming home again.

Painting by John Stobart

The imagery used throughout reminds you of actually being at the ocean, which I thought you would enjoy. The speaker says he is called to the “green tossing sea” and “a road without earth’s road-dust”. He talks about returning to where the “white dipping sails” and “bronzed sailors” are, remembering his days aboard ship. He envisions the “mad salt sea-wind” blowing over him again.

The speaker acknowledges different roads, noting that “One road leads to London, one road leads to Wales”, but believes his road is ever seaward. That reminded me of you, because of all the places you’ve been. Out of all of them, the ocean has the highest regard in your mind.

I know your real home is wherever your family is, but I believe we all have that special place that we feel ourselves in. For you, I think that’s the good old seashore. I hope you really enjoy this poem, and it brings lovely memories back to you.

Roadways by John Masefield  One road leads to London, One road leads to Wales, My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails. One road leads to the river, And it goes singing slow; My road leads to shipping, Where the bronzed sailors go. Leads me, lures me, calls me To salt green tossing sea; A road without earth’s road-dust Is the right road for me.

A wet road heaving, shining,  And wild with seagull’s cries, A mad salt sea-wind blowing The salt spray in my eyes. My road calls me, lures me West, east, south, and north; Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth. To add more miles to the tally Of grey miles left behind, In quest of that one beauty God put me here to find.

Photograph by Suzy Guese