The Lighthouse

By Neridah McMullan

She stands tall,

Faithful,

Stoic and true.

White-washed,

And unwavering.

Carved basalt steps,

A salt encrusted,

Red door,

With a rusty lock.

Up curved, spiral stairs,

A French Fresnal,

Lens flashes,

Guiding ships,

Away from rocks,

And rips.

Bitter maelstrom,

Blustering galeforce.

To the Lighthouse!

The Lighthouse –

If only you knew,

You saved me

And my crew.