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
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