Lighthouse


Time stopped for them on the serene sea shore,
pairs of parallel footprints engraved in eternity
on the serenading sands that listened patiently
the rolling waves’ moist whisper of marine love, 
as her eyes sparkled in the beam of the lighthouse,
when the ebony night draped the charcoal sea.

The light of her eyes went out one dark night,
the wrecked mariner sailed out to the high sea,
riding the swells of tear on a voyage of solace
in search of the new sun in the receding horizon.
The surging winds carried the echo of her lost voice,
the craving call of the silent shore she deserted.

The beacon flickered like a candle in the wind,
the fleeting glint of her eyes when they closed,
but the lingering rays of the guiding light travelled 	
through the turbulent wake of the floating memory. 
The anguished mariner returned to the lonely shore,
traced her faded footprints to the lighthouse.

imagerymemorynostalgiafree verse

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