The Lighthouse

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The lighthouse

Shining its bright

Light out too sea

Beams across the

Water brighter

Than it ever

Can be

Somehow it

Reminds me

Of me

The light turns

For all to see

Waves of reflection

Comes and goes

Never misses its

Moment to be

Right

The lighthouse light

Shows its face every

Night

From afar it can

Be shining bright

Through thick November fog

Leaving behind

This thing they

Call the black dog

Burning red eyes

Head on hitting

Its headlight.

I do not want

To grow up

Bitter wind bites

Through turning

The lights cog

Desolation a description

Of the lighthouse's

Isolation

Appeals to me

Space to set

My wild mind

Run free

Thinking of days

Gone by looking

At the lighthouse

I begin to cry

Lord have mercy

On me I say

Looking at the stars in the sky

I stand still asking

Myself why

You gave it your

Best you could give

This black dog

Following me

I wish it would

Allow me to live

The beautiful light

Throw your beam

Into my dark house.

©

Annie (The Poets Tree)