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