Circling sea gulls sweep above
the sun-baked summer sand,
While rhythmic pounding surf revives
it's measured cadenced hand.
Above on rocky shoreline point
among the spruce and pine,
The stalwart lighthouse stands aloof
awaiting darker times.
A shaft of light probes hopefully
saluting home and hearth,
Guiding tired mariners
towards safer shores at dark.
Another day fades sluggishly
the humid shoreline sighs,
Along the beach the breakers beat
their rhythmic sad reprise.
As nighthawks replace sea gulls
and creeping darkness falls,
A lonely gull cries mournfully
against the gathering pall.
The lighthouse beams brightly
a summer day is done,
The quiet of the moon lit bay,
replaces summer sun.
Copyright 2008 All Rights Reserved. No publishing or reprinting without the expressed permission of the author.
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