There on a cliff was a shadow, from where I could see <br />it looked far away. The wind was blowing and it felt as <br />if snow was on it's way. Upon that cliff top there once stood <br />a house built of stone. Her stone and cobbles were painted <br />white and on her roof she carried a beaming light. <br />In her days of Pomp and Glory, there were many a sailor <br />who told a good story. Ones of ghosts and things of the night <br />all making their way to the beacon light. Through tempest and <br />in calm these old sailors would roam, and saftly they would return <br />because the beacon light would bring them home; <br />she carried them over many a rough wave and saved their ships <br />from a watery grave.No more does she stand where she did before; <br />with her flashing beacon throwing light of the shore. <br />The story goes she is beyond repair, <br />it really is sad to see this despair; <br />She lays almost forgotton on shifting sand. <br />The cliffs have eroded and she fell with the land. <br />The shadow I saw was the light from a beam. <br />That's the ghostly thing it was no dream. <br />Sailors tell of long ago when a ship was wrecked far below. <br />Her beam went out for one costly second <br />and thats when our Dear Lord beconed. <br />Fifty souls were lost to a watery grave <br />because the beacon failed to behave. <br />There now lingers a shadow; and we know <br />it's no dream, they say its the ghost of the beam. <br />The one that never shone bright <br />on that most unfortunate night.<br /><br />sylvia spencer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beacon-light/
