The Lighthouse
Upon the rugged, windswept shore,
Where waves crash wild forevermore,
A steadfast tower, brave and bright,
Guides the lost through darkest night.
Its beacon cuts through mist and rain,
A shining hope in ocean’s pain.
Through storm and still, it lights the way,
A faithful watch both night and day.
Oh, lighthouse strong, you never wane,
A guiding star on the endless plain.
In your glow, the weary rest,
Their hearts made calm, their spirits blessed.
About the Creator
George’s Girl 2026
I've been writing poetry since the age of 10. With pen in hand, I wander the realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture you ❤️#Marie381UkWrites
Keep reading
More stories from George’s Girl 2026 and writers in Poets and other communities.
Swan
“During the Metal Age, humans took photographs of everything beautiful, which was everything, yet machines did not even wear shoes. The Fauxna thought of a better way. They colored all of the light rose, for a corrupted source cannot be verified.” - Origin Parable, 011
By Nicky Franklya day ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
A true Guard to all the ships at sea. Great description.
A lovely testament to those guiding lights in our life. 🤗
Such a beautiful and evocative poem ✨ Loved it 🤗