Attending to daily tasks to safeguard mariners.Hundreds of steps leading to Fresnel glass, To polish lens, and pump oil from below.Twenty miles, piercing the black curtain, Warning of shoals and points, directing home.Image © Mark A PhillipsVerse © Mark A Phillips
A fishing boat sits, last season’s leftover.Ignored by the fishing-fleet, But attracting intermittent guests.Awed by its vivid hues, They stop, admire–and quickly move on.Image © Brenda K PhillipsVerse © Mark A Phillips
Offer both defense and offense in time of conflict.Colors arching across the misty, sunny sky, Of remembered promises long given.Remembrance of what, though? Could it be? A promise of peace?Image © Mark A PhillipsVerse © Mark A PIsland.
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Copyright ©2022 Brenda K PhillipsCopyright ©2022 Mark A PhillipsAll rights reserved
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