Faye Sizemore

THE LIGHT ON BEACON HILL

The path to the top of Beacon Hill is overgrown but passable still
From the inland side it is just a gentile glide above a lake so wide
An old lighthouse stands there still… at the very edge of this hill
climbed by ivy vines… not being used in these modern times
These wide waters… from the Canadian coast…
to the American shore… was a busy place in days of yore
Lake Ontario’s length is one hundred ninety-three miles
and this Great Lake is fifty-three miles wide
This lighthouse was a beacon on the American side
On these waters… shippers and coal barges plied their trade
and by this beacon many a life saving judgment was made
Crossing these waters during a storm was a cause of greatest alarm.
The beacon meant staying alive and keeping sailors and cargo from harm
These old lighthouses from another time were often these ships’ only lifeline
The faithful lighthouse keeper made sure the lights always did shine
There is many a pilot on this lake who has sent it a silent ‘Thank you, Mate’
Now the ivy has claimed each stone of this old lighthouse abandoned alone
In long ago days ships counted on its light to shine but that was another time
It sometimes shines now… shines in the memory of some old sea farers mind