The fog shrouds everything with its hazy veil.
It broods low over the worried waves-
So low that sea and sky are the same.
The trees tremble in the tiny breath of breeze,
Their cold gray veils of mist undisturbed.
At last the returning sun pierces the shroud and drives away the fog;
The tattered shreds of mist are left to melt.
Great write i can almost smell the salty breeze. Well done Rose! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The depth of awareness in this poem indicates your actual presence in this experience. I love how the lack of rhyme lends a certain brooding heaviness to the lines, indicative of the surrounding fog and constant waves. I hope to see more work like this. Keep honest and write away!