Amidst the rocks on the edge of the land
Casting its light, a faithful friend stands.
Low in the shadows of the crests and troughs
Lies hidden danger when seas are rough.
But this lighthouse spreads it's loyal beam
To alert captains to what can't be seen...
A metaphor for a friend like you
Who generously lights up those around her too
Who shares her light of joy and love;
The darkest shadows you rise above.
Thank you for reaching out your hand
Like the faithful guardian sheds its light from the land.
beacon of light dimmed
broken windows from past storms
leaves it ghostly
If you are lost
look no further
Trust in yourself
and know that
it's important
for you
to remember
To try your best
and never give up
Try to be the person
you needed to be
when you were
younger and afraid
Of the things
that cannot
hurt you anymore
now that you are
much stronger,
wiser, and braver.
For every step
you take forward
There is someone
younger who sees
you and might
someday aspire
to be just like you
Because in their eyes
you somehow
became their hero.
A square building called Gilbert's Cove Lighthouse,
built way back in 1904 high above the water;
it was home to a man, children and spouse.
The cove calm but it could get white-water,
the red beacon guided boats of all shapes;
keepers kept them from the underwater.
Often rain would crash down like thick white drapes,
the children would huddle in real dread;
for 50 years the family enjoyed dreamscapes.
It was a lighthouse- a home white and red,
in time, it fell to decay and boarded up;
a Nova Scotia lighthouse and homestead.
But, a historical group did a huge cleanup,
now, museum and tea room pick-me-up !
Yet another vestige of love lost
whetted cheeks and swollen eyes
life's cruel moments wreak havoc
within the softness of one's heart.
A heart stops beating with malice
the breath gone in a rattle and hum
final whispers and the brain quivers
dormant pulse and a bluish pallor.
The tempest roars insatiably loud
a body can be lost, never to be found
great ships disintegrate upon granite
lives are left, penned on parchment.
The Reaper stares jubilant from rocks
as a grand lighthouse loses once more.
Clothing and splintered wood float by
as rubble and rabble left on the shore.
In a stormy gale, glows a freakish orb
slapped by the tail of a golden stingray
harbinger doomed in a soulless sky
tears in the torrent beget a dark night.
Before the dawn could teach the city how to wake,
I found my face where old relinquishments still burned;
Each breath became the mason of the walls it chose to break,
Till silence knew the man whom suffering had unlearned.
One leaf upon a wintered tree revised the season's claim—
Love signed where time had long forgotten every name.
Then midnight raised a lighthouse in the chambers of my breast,
Whose beam sought not the sea, but all I'd left behind;
My shipwrecked selves came homeward, neither anchored nor confessed,
For every lost horizon had been harbouring the mind.
The future was no country waiting somewhere to begin—
It gathered like a coastline from the tides I kept within.
So now I ask no heaven for a kingdom yet to rise;
The stars inherit only what the steadfast spirit proves.
Each faithful heart becomes the grammar by which darkness dies,
The unseen shore toward which eternity still moves.
The universe remembers, not by thunder, throne, or flame,
But when one inward lighthouse quietly learns its Name.
His eyes are like a lighthouse
I’m like a helpless black moth
Angst in red heart loudly shouts
To be found for I am so lost
He walks softly like a saint
I feel he is a holy, man I’m damned
I desire him like blue rain
On brown cactus I am like spam
I can never look him in his eyes
It seems he can view my heart
And disciples all my licorice lies
Tearing my cranial castle apart
Why is he so angelic and wise
Why do I feel so desperately not
It’s those dreamy lighthouse eyes
That seem to baptize my heart
Majestic lighthouse you still stand
Foundations deep beneath the sand.
Of granite blocks and tapered tower
Uniquely structures staying power.
At dusk, the keeper walked the stairs
Along the way each window checks.
With watchful eyes, the ocean scanned
The routes for those who crossed he planned.
From dusk to dawn, bright signals send
This light shone through optic lens.
Then through the day this lens was cleaned
So, through the night the lighthouse beamed.
The sailors would on him depend
For them, their lives he would defend.
But modern days have seen decline
And rarely now do keepers climb.
But stories; many could be told
From memories lighthouses hold.
Of battles won and lost at sea
That only keeper’s eyes could see.
Since the dawning of my memory
it seems that I've been lost at sea,
and, from the moment I was born,
I've been listening for a horn.
Does anyone even know I am lost,
on these waves, turned and tossed?
Could there be a kind of knife,
to pierce this thing called life,
to cut through fog and ocean mist,
to find me and tell me why I exist?
Living always in fear or fright,
can I be saved by a house of light?
A tall white tower in stones I stretch high,
Towards the expanse or the starry sky;
I stay awake through all hours of the night,
Shining afar my steady, sparkling light.
Pitched at edge of land and sea crashing white,
It is my humble duty and delight
To guide sailors sail safely past the shore
And dread the squally stormy seas no more.
Even If storms should turn the sky to lead,
My beam ever remains where sailors tread;
Even when thunder shakes the hollow ground
I direct them to the shore, safe and sound.
Beyond the reach of warmth and far from home
Sailors trust my tower through mist and foam;
They track the trail of my bright rhythmic glow
Despite the whirling waves and tides below.
My years flit by in midst of salt and spray,
My paints from my walls are peeling away,
Yet still I hold darkness of night at bay
Until the safe and soft return of day.
the
beam
cuts
through
the mist
on rocky
cliffs of
iron and
stone. it
stands to
guide the
weary home
and guard
the lands
from raging
storm and
cold black
spray. It
saves the
souls that
lost their
way. Tall
against
the gale
of night.
A steady
eternal
source
of light.
[______]
In shades of grey
They came. They went
Uneasiness in the dusty rooms
They drank
But something dark stirred
And they noticed
But did not speak of it
As time was marked
He watched the other
Who worshipped the light.
The light that ruled him
That gave them purpose
But also haunted them
In the grey
Taunted by seagulls
Screaming what they did not want to hear
Confirming the horrors
They barely kept down
So they drank
As the madness arrived
The storms and the light
The slave to the light
As it kept revolving
Days they went on
He Who worshipped the light
Could no longer look away
The other, watched
Haunted in the grey
And so they were found
Though storms may come increasingly
wreaking havoc in darkest hours,
there is a lighthouse by the sea.
For those in peril it stands tall,
guiding souls to safety’s shore.
Hope’s beacon, it is there for all.
To the Lord's light may you be led
when by life’s storms you are beset.
Have faith; hope shines for you ahead!
Standing strong with a sky reaching height
Visible from miles,very much in sight.
Standing tall in the middle of deep ocean
Bears the waves and winds,without motion.
Guiding the movement of huge ships
Shows the path to those on trips.
The light on top sparks so bright
Ensuring everything around is alright.
Showing the way leading to destination
Encouraging to move,being an inspiration.
The only hope in the dark deep sea
The beacon,one needs in position, to be...
My wife Marrianne insisted
We’d go to the lighthouse.
We navigated the deadly rocks
As the lighthouse flashed the danger around
Emitting intense beams of light every fifteen seconds.
The full moon shone bright and golden
Its rays flickered o'er the calm sea,
Silvery waves danced to and from the shore
Towards the beaming lighthouse,
Where dolphins danced in mirth yet all was calm.
From afar we heard
The melodious soft music from a cruise liner.
Everywhere we felt great serenity
That we fell asleep, floating peacefully on the calm waves.
We could have had trouble from some volcanic rock,
But from the lighthouse,
A Glastron boat sped towards our craft
And sailors towed us back to safety.
We thanked them profusely and offered a tot of rum.
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