Unclear Yet Like A Fog Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Every day and every night,
I shall turn to left and right,
Take my turnings as I go,
Sometimes thoughts do overflow.

Words on lips, I don't talk,
Unclear yet like a fog,
Feelings worth and touching too,
Some sense, must get through.

Every day and every night,
Something on the tongue abide,
Which is what, I don't know,
For it is like: so and so.

Word on lips, just to stalk,
Dry and white like the chalk,
Sentence making, meaning worth,
Understanding, at its birth.

Every day, left and right,
Discernment brought to light,
Word on lips, I don't talk,
Unclear yet like a fog.