Lighthouse—sentinel seaside;
A welcome sight, steadfast light.
To mariners, a true guide;
Beacon helping them steer right
Whether in high or low tide.
Beam of light, helpful at night;
Gives sailors a safer ride.
Lighthouses help guard the coast,
Warn of fog, hazards, and more -
Reef or shoal cloaked like a ghost.
Small skyscrapers of the shore;
Michigan—state with the most
Lookout towers during war
Other Great Lakes states do host.
Lighthouses’ inspiration
Shines with versatility,
Beyond just navigation -
Mix of style, locality,
Range, and illumination.
Standing with vitality!
rugged wave battered
rocky coast of Maine
ships easily smashed
in to kindling
cold Labrador current
sweeping down from Canada
claims many lives
sixty-five lighthouses built
from Lobster Point in the south
to Whitlock’s Mill in the north
bass fog horns and
flashing lights
guide the sailors
home from the sea
A tower carved from heavy stone,
It braves the raging, timeless sea,
Where ancient wooden ships were blown,
By winds that whistled wild and free.
The keeper climbs the spiral stairs,
To trim the wick and light the flame,
Through bitter frost and salty air,
To guide the ships without a name.
With whale-oil fire and iron gears,
It pierced the heavy, choking fog,
A savior through the passing years,
Recorded in the Captain's log.
Through naval wars and trading booms,
The lens revolved with steady grace,
To rescue crews from watery tombs,
And mark this rugged, lonely place.
Though modern beams now take the lead,
The weathered structure stands sublime,
A monument to human need,
Defying all the rust of time.
I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.
Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically
A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.
Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.
Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Hypnosis Theme (feat. Marina Quaisse) by Wax Tailor
majestic beauty
brightly towering in sky
greeting all sailors
lighthouses light
seen between the oceans
seafarers guidance
guardian of ships
beacon of light across dark sky
guiding them safely
Eyes of light beams pierce ocean air
as Neptune rests within his lair.
Sentinels hand-made of stone,
that keepers used to call their home;
guide travelers, sailors on their way
a lovely sight both night and day.
Though today they’re automatic,
once someone ascended to their attic;
to turn on the light and keep it oiled
so harbor and bay had no wrecked spoils.
One’s orientation was not lost,
though about the seas ships were tossed.
For the Lubber’s lines worked their magic,
in preventing any shipwrecks, tragic.
Rough navigation the lighthouse soothed,
making for a landing smooth;
ships reached port abandoning fears,
when to the lighthouse they drew near.
So thank the gracious hand that built them,
for your cruise won’t end up grim.
Hoist that mainsail with great joy,
as light to night seas they employ.
These lonely specters in tribute stand
towering testaments to ingenuity of man.
As the fogbank descended...the shoreline
was hidden behind an opaque curtain.
And dusk added illusion to shadows
drifting from fantasy...to uncertain.
At night a piercing beam of friendly light
would warn ships, of rocks jutting from the sea.
And generate sensations of safety
providing a link to reality.
Ship captains relied upon such beacons
to navigate through a gauntlet of ghosts.
And strategically placed near danger
their light was a welcomed sight on the coasts.
Treasured objects of a seafaring past
these rugged lighthouses...have failed to last.
(Sonnet)
June 2, 2018
Thousands of ships pass
Crashing waves against the shore
Lighthouses guide them
I’m standing solemnly contemplating
How ageing lighthouses independents
Have become Maritimes normality
With beacons becoming statutory
Now standing shimmering silhouetted
You’re shining flawlessly undemanding
The hopeful monument oblivious
To seamen’s abounding adorations
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
09.22.2014
Contest: The Lighthouse
Nette Onclaud
7th
A lighthouse stands proudly
Throwing light at all angles
Looking like it stood forever
Taking in all the elements
Beautiful is the lighthouse
Majestic is its glorious form
Perfectly serene when all lit up
Timeless when there’s light
Living within the heart of it
The lighthouse carries no fear
For it has withstood everything
That has been thrown at it
It’s an honor to behold one
Deep within its prime years
Watching for the nightfall
And keeping sailors away
Beauty, fascinating and breathtaking
Many that see are in awe
Lighthouses are still sovereign
And the light within still shines
Russell Sivey
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