A sea on sirocco, At sea, ships that fly, Not just of your mind, Plain to see in the sky

Where pavement meets the edge, I stand, A boundary line in concrete's hand. Stopping wheels and feet alike, I brace the road with steadfast might.

Towering over edge, For those who drag and dredge, A monument to focus aim, But don’t go up the ledge. Spinning beams beckon, A landmark taming dark. Known to have a keeper, Who gives the saving spark.

I reach for the sky with a needle of stone, Born from a base, yet I stand all alone. Not quite a tower, but aiming up higher, A peak with a purpose, slim, sharp, and dire. Churches and castles wear me with pride - What am I called when I upwardly rise?

My points are fixed, and yet you find me in constant motion, I wheel and spin in an endless dance, As awe inspiring as your oceans. A teller of time, a spinner of fates, I'll guide you home, or define your traits. By the time you see me, I am years ahead, I gift you gold after my soul has fled.