The Light

Shinning far and wide with your burnished dome Twisting stairs inside your home Tales you tell from a thousand men Of oceans fury, and resting wren Stale aromas rise within Of lighthouse keepers that has been They lead a life of loneliness and solitude They’re echoing the sounds of the foghorn flute Occupied with reading books And cleaning prisms and occasional looks Out to the deep vast abyss It’s easy to sit and reminisce Some that have passed its told they walk about Of misery and emotion and frightening shouts There shadows move and dance Wishing they were alive for a last chance And there are those that question this story Of ghosts alive and keeping inventory No matter how they now operate Lighthouse’s we appreciate They keep our ships and boats safe