The Lighthouse - Sentinel
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The clouds above ooze and billow,
And the ocean is howling and thrashing;
A lighthouse is lost in the vortex,
Oh, will the bricks hold or start crumbling.
Wild and angry is the blustering wind,
Blowing up huge white foamy waves;
Screaming with gale force strength,
Oh, will the keepers go to watery graves.
Biting cold that thundering whiteness,
Frigid and raw and loudly savage;
Penetrating and freezing to those trapped,
Oh, will the sentinel survive the ravage.
Although, I stand in awe of the beauty,
I am filled with sheer panic and darkness;
The apprehension is upsetting and scary,
Oh, the dread and horror and sad distress.
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April 6, 2016
Poetry/Quatrain/The Lighthouse - Sentinel
Copyright Protected, ID 16-775-238-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Sentinel Quatrain Form,
sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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