The Last of the Light-housekeepers
An isolated island sitting off the barren coast of Nova Scotia
Giant light revolving sending warnings far out into the Atlantic seas
Swept and pounded from time immortal by the salt brine waves
Waves changing coastline moving shifting rocks and trees
Guiding the ships men and women who seek the safety of a harbour
Welcoming arms of light that lead them to safety like a garden ardour
In the house below without the benefit of modern society inventions
The light-keepers family read by kerosene light of mortal man’s intentions
A fire roars in the antique woodstoves in the kitchen and parlour
His rubber boots, oil skins and sou-wester hang by the door
Waiting for when he must go tend to his precious light once more
Mother rocks her baby as generations of women have done before
This is a life that no one in our world could imagine that’s for sure
Ah...he is the last of his kind and like his father before him he loves the light
He loves the solitude, the smells, even the taste of salt on the breeze at night
Coast Guard has sent his notice the light will be automated come spring
They will have to leave the home and the no more hear the seabirds sing
His son will not inherit the job that his family done for a hundred years
He feels his heart ache and he fights back the salt sea of his tears.
Take care,
Sherry
Paul;-]
Not sure but check this...I think there might be one word too many "they" say!!
"Welcoming arms of light them lead them to safety like a garden ardour"
If not my apologies to you!!
Love Tinka
Good write!
Love, Bonnie