Short. Chequered.

Tall, stark white.  Bleak.


Imposing.  Short.  Bulky.

Soaring tall towers.


Architects of the past

Monuments of hope.


Incredible lenses.

Awe inspiring architecture.


Tales of survival. 

Loneliness.  Heroics. 


Salty air, howling winds.

Fierce sun, pelting hail.


So few, humble, men, women,

keeping thousands safe.


Drawn to every story,

I sit in the long shadow,


Watching clouds scuttle past.

Looking up and wondering,


At midnight, mid-winter,

Who walked the spiral stairs?


Julia Vaughan 


Julia Vaughan moved to Australia with her husband in 1989 and began writing poetry after attending inspiring Victorian Surf Coast U3A “I just don’t get poetry” classes.  Having poems dotted sparsely across the internet, she dreams of becoming an accomplished poet.  When not dreaming, she can be found walking the beaches with her two Vizsla dogs.


Published poems:-

Woman in Red - Otoliths, 01Nov2021

Words are Flowers - Melbourne Culture Corner, 01Nov2021

Finding Calm - Writing In A Woman’s Voice, 09Feb2022

Sustain Yourself – Mad Swirl, 15Feb2022



  1. Fabulous work. I, too, would love to know who walked the spiral stairs. Linda

  2. Thank you Linda. I was quite taken by stories of wives, in the middle of the night, carrying up the stairs, bowls of hot soup to exhausted and wet and cold lighthouse keepers in the middle of wild weather.

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