Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Bedtime Hush to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
On a rock where the restless waves would roar and swell,
A tired old lighthouse rang out its sleepy bell.
Its beam went round and round like a slow and golden thought,
Guiding every drifting ship that harbour lights had sought.
The keeper climbed the spiral stairs with a mug of steaming tea,
And wrote in his little logbook, all is calm upon the sea.
The gulls tucked in their wings and the fishing boats came home,
And the tide unrolled a blanket of white and silver foam.
Then the lamp began to blink with a heavy, drowsy eye,
Till the lighthouse and the keeper shared a soft and quiet sigh.
So sleep well, little sailor, in the cradle of the deep,
For the light still turns above you while you drift away to sleep.
Poet of Bedtime Hush · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
A lighthouse never really sleeps, and that is what makes this poem comforting. Its steady beam stands for the watchful care that lets everyone else rest.
On a rock where waves “roar and swell,” a “tired old lighthouse” rings “its sleepy bell.” Its beam turns “like a slow and golden thought,” and the keeper climbs “the spiral stairs with a mug of steaming tea” to write that “all is calm upon the sea.”
The gulls tuck “in their wings,” the boats come home and the tide unrolls “a blanket of white and silver foam.” The lamp begins to blink “with a heavy, drowsy eye,” and the poem ends by addressing a child: “sleep well, little sailor.”