As the break-water
foams on the rocks below,
And the sea-gulls soar
from their hidden homes.
We sit and ponder
the meaning of life,
And gaze in awe on
what God bestows.


The Lighthouse stands
deserted alas!
It winks and moans
its warning ways,
Programmed now from
distance shores,
Bereft of man,
among the waves.


The birds reclaim
what once was theirs,
And sing aloud at such
good fortune,
Banished man
from rock and wave
And raise their young
in God's seclusion.


Bill Williams