The lighthouse is a sentinel
That stands on sea or shore,
It's very existence threatened
By the lake storm's angry roar.

It was once lit with whale oil,
The lens hand polished bright
Now fully automated...
It shines both day and night.

Through rolling fog, the piercing light
Makes its presence known,
And guides the ships around the rocks
With loud alarming tones.

In winter bleak, it stands alone
Thick with ice and sleet,
In summer sun it brightly gleams
In the day's unyielding heat.

Let's not forget the lightships
Anchored 'mid the silver waves,
They guard the channel entrance
And warn of rocky graves.

Although the lighthouse stands alone
Its reassuring light
Guides the lives of those who sail,
Through the darkness of the night.