This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Write and you are a writer.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Lighthouse


Photo by Jessica
Visit Jessica's 365 Day Photo Project Blog
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Suggested Prompt...
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Use a lighthouse in your writing today.


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Lighthouse
beckon to our hearts

When will Papa's ship come in?
Rest easy my love his ship will come soon

Lighthouse at night
Lighthouse light shining toward the sea

Knowing that you are out there
Waiting for me

Lighthouse summoning you home
to me


~ cagrowngirl



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5 comments:

Dani said...

The lighthouse
Stands tall
Shines to the world
Yelling out
"I am here"
"Look at me"
Beckons to those in stormy waters
Comforts those in dark seas
Raises up the wandering eye
Lifts up the hands that hang down
Like a lighthouse
I would like to be

cagrowngirl said...

Lighthouse
beckon to our hearts

When will Papa's ship come in?
Rest easy my love his ship will come soon

Lighthouse at night
Lighthouse light shining toward the sea

Knowing that you are out there
Waiting for me

Lighthouse summoning you home
to me

babbler said...

The light is on, but nobody is home. They are out at the store buying a wire mesh pencil holder.

Faith said...

The lighthouse was always a beacon of hope for her. If she could see the lighthouse, she was safe. She never went far from shore. She never went past the village's boundaries. She had to see that building during the day, the light at night. She didn't know what was beyond the village, and she never wanted to know. She had heard the stories of the fishermen lost at sea, those who could not find the lighthouse. She had heard the stories of the boats crashing into the cliffs when they couldn't see the light. What would happen to her if she couldn't see the light? She needed to be safe. Always.

As such, she never left the village. She never saw the world. She never met new people. She never learned of other cultures. She never experienced life as it was meant to be experienced.

She lived a safe life. She lived a sad life. She died alone.

She is buried next to the lighthouse ... her beacon, her safety.

I.N.Kwell said...

Angelina studied the neat white house and the tall striped tower. Was this what she had been missing all these years? She checked the adress that she'd written down just a few days ago. But her trip felt like weeks. The house looked clean and comfortable, and she could see herself falling into bed there. But no one was home. She found the lighthouse door open and hiked to the top, "Hello?" She stuck her head up from the stairs. "Well, I'll be..." the old man said. It was a tearful greeting, but what do you expect from people who haven't seen their only grandchild in 18 years, and 11 months? As incredible as it was, that didn't stop Anglina from dropping onto the small cot in the corner. The sound of the waves rocked her to sleep and she knew, this is what home is suppoused to feel like.