The salty spray of the sea is the taste of adventure on my tongue,
Many moons separate me from the start of this voyage,
But I do not long for the comfort of home,
Or the stable certainty of the familiar,
I much prefer the blue velvet carpet laid out before me,
The white foam curled pages,
Calling me to write new stories,
The cry of my heart is “Onwards,”
The exciting unknown beckons.
