Mist Poem by David Harris
Mist
The mist moved across the field
swallowing up everything in its path.
A white blanket that hovered
inches above the ground.
It came in the cool of dawn
and vanished like a ghost
near the beginning of the day.
While it stayed, you could not see
anything within a foot of thee.
The mist that came like a sleeking ghost
was now gone after being hit
by the rays of the morning sun.
27 September 2008
Evocative penning David. You combine the beauty and the mystery beautifully in this fine poem. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Lovely motion picture, i can see a thousand tiny drops on the grass heads
you have captured through poetic lines and word pictures, how it feels on a misty day. you know David, i am just back from the Banks of Ganges- it was exactly how i felt on one misty morning, with Ganges covered in a white blanket...thanks 10 Merry Xmas Mamta
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 9:57:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I miss the mist....lol...and living on the lake....now I'm to far inland to get it....once in a great while when a quick change in temps during the day