A beacon of shining light,
Once meant for guiding travelers.
A tower of red and white,
Now a symbol of the Island.
Sandy beaches lead me to him,
Tucked behind jetties of rock.
I walk slowly to the entryway,
Up close, it’s height is a shock.
I gaze up at Old Barney,
169 feet standing tall.
Ascending the narrow stairs,
I hear the seagull’s call.
Finally at the summit,
The wind whips and screams.
The sea an ombré of blue and green,
A painting from my dreams.
I breathe in the sweet salt air,
Basking in the last rays of sun.
I walk to my car, feeling serene,
The last days of summer are done.
– CeCe Port
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