The Trail

The afternoon was passing by,

As the sun was starting to abseil.

The wind was whispering through the grass

As she stood there on the trail.

The lighthouse rose in the distance;

It stood there grand and tall,

Its beacon sweeping through the dusk,

Keeping an eye out for those needing assistance.

———

Each day you'd see her standing there,

The lady by the shore,

Waiting for her one true love

To come home to her once more.

Her gaze would drift toward the light,

A silent prayer within her eyes—

The keeper, he knew and understood

How her heart had now become bruised.

———

A bunch of flowers in her hand,

In her heart an aching pain,

She will walk barefoot upon the sand each day

Until her lover returns again.