There was not even a whisper of dawn
Darkness seemed to cover the blanket sky
My duties to the light were now complete
So I settled down for my sparse breakfast
As I drank my limpid warm tea
I thought about my coastal home
Of my parents and their dog
Had the sun risen there I wondered
Or was it as dark as it was here
I could hear my colleague stirring
So I put the kettle back on the stove
Although I neither liked him or disliked him
We shared our duties efficiently and without argument
Rosen was a quiet God fearing type of man from Whitby
And was over fifteen years my senior
He neither drank or smoked
And had a Sea Bible in his quarters
I think I irritated him with my artistic personality
As I sketched a great deal and painted using water
But he kept his views to himself and even gave me his penknife
On the occasion of my twenty-fifth birthday
I looked out of the window and found it still unusually dark
Even though we were nearing the eighth hour of the day
This spooked me as even on the poorest of days
Grey daylight would have been faintly visible
I opened the door into a moderate wind
And apart from the illumination of the outside light
I could not see anything due to the suffocating darkness
This said I could still hear the waves and the mermaids on the rocks
Which brought me a great feeling of comfort
Stanhope Light
25th January 1929
William Fawkes