From my cottage kitchen window I can see <br />Two fields away the blue, the shining sea <br />And ships that slowly glide to far-off shores <br />Each one a separate world with its own laws; <br /> <br />They pass beyond my window and are gone. <br />When morning comes that miracle, the sun <br />Lifts slowly from the sea, a sacrament <br />Of grace and glory, or enlightenment. <br /> <br />My cottage truly is a house of light: <br />By night shines Sirius, cold and bright <br />And in the afternoon our living room <br />Seems more like a sunny meadow in mid-June. <br /> <br />From it we see the sun prepare to slumber <br />Wrapped in the gleaming waters of the Humber <br />While to the south another lighthouse shines— <br />Peace be to Spurn and you who read these lines.<br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-house-of-light/
