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The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse


      Dark spirits roar against the guiding light
      Of the lighthouse on the storm blasted rock;
      Standing tall against the turbulent night
      Ravaged by the fierce gale’s relentless shock,

      As the light keeper waits the devil’s knock.
      Ferocious squalls like angry spectres teem
      Around the tower of un-yeilding block
      And hell’s swarming impotent demons scream

      In helpless rage around the steady beam.
      Bright streaks of lightening as the winds raise
      The seas until a far ship’s light it seems,
      Turns from the rocks and the bright blinking gaze,

      Then all of Hell’s demon’s that raised the winds
      Are spent against the guiding light within.

       Barry Sebbings
         09/04/17

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Ricky Muse

Date: 9/4/2017 9:47:00 AM

Love the images here. This feels like a painting, based on a dream, based on reality.

Barry Stebbings
Date: 9/4/2017 3:52:00 PM

Thank you for your interesting comment, Richard. It is what I see when I look at a picture of a lighthouse in a storm. // Barry.