On a tip of the Maryland shores,
A lighthouse is getting some much needed chores.
Once a government property,
Fell into disrepair.
Surrounded by a fence,
No one allowed near,
No one dared.
Its paint was peeling,
The windows cracked,
No one had lived there for some year's back.
The lighthouse saw action from the Civil War.
A hospital and prison camp at its doors.
Oh, the stories those walls could tell,
If only they could say them aloud.
Some say its haunted,
And why not believe?
Ann Davis, a keeper for many years
May still be working thru her tears.
Her much loved lighthouse,
Where she spent thirty years,
Will again shine in its glory
Of her tender care years.
The spirits of war wander around,
On the shores, lighthouse and the grounds.
Men seeking a way home,
Men planning a fight.
Men healing from wounds,
Others suffered worst from their plights.
Today, the lighthouse looks much different,
New paint,
New windows,
Cupola glistening,
Just waiting for a light.
An inspiration to all lighthouse lovers,
That many may follow along.
The tireless work of people who dared.
Will keep history alive for those who care.
