Lighthouse

A sentry posted at the ends of the earth
Watches the ocean on a serene day
On a railing, the seagulls perch
Facing inland or seaward
He does not know if they have a preference
But from his tower, he spreads his arms;
They are wide enough to embrace both.

Stone Sentry

In the tingling cold
The lion’s mane
Grows large and bold
Coated by a gentle snow
His stone façade
Becomes a show
Of tranquil night
And calming deep
A vigilant guard, at last
Asleep