The Light House Spirit
The Baccareu Light house is not a home no more
Oh the light still shines, but nothing like before
Across the islands, the cliffs, the wind swept shore
The beam flashes out the dangers forever more
Computer chips send out the warning, the rocks to mark
But a brine-soaked spirit roams nightly after dark
He wanders in and out of the shrouds of a foggy night
He shirks from the glow of this new automated light
The spirit of this man’s father’s father first slept here
Memories all that’s left of that life that he held so dear.
Love Tinka
Paul;-)
I'm sorry it has taken me so long to read and review your poetry. I've had so little internet access over the past two months. Please know that I have appreciated your support of my poetry.
Thanks for sharing this. I found it thought-provoking and interesting.
Take care
Chanti
excellent poem, Felix ...
Take care,
Sherry