She walks through the blinding fog
                                                      it engulfs her morning stroll
                                                      Her mind is stuck in marsh and mud
                                                      waiting for something to unfold
                                                      Underneath the shrouded veil
                                                      lies a poem waiting for wings
                                                      To take flight in earnest sail
                                                      in the midst of misty dreams
                                                      Each voice she hears, echoes back
                                                      whispering in the brisk breeze
                                                      Like bells along the aerial track
                                                      amidst the flutter of leaves
                                                      Her heart beat is dancing strong
                                                      soul searching for each rhyme
                                                      Through the dense pathway on
                                                      The bells are beginning to chime
                                                      Drawing her ever so close by
                                                      beneath the fog and bitter rain
                                                      She pulls the sun from bending sky
                                                      her muse plants each tiny grain
                                                      The shadows of mere words
                                                      bounce upon the ground
                                                      Awakens the morning birds
                                                      as silver rays are shining down
                                                      A perfect foggy morning beams
                                                      although words are hard to find
                                                      In the pathway of misty dreams
                                                      Inspiration is never far behind
                                                      Copyright, 2013 Susie Swanson

 
Nice poem, Susie... I love FOG.. There's just something peaceful about it... One time when we were in Arkansas, it got very foggy in the middle of the afternoon... BUT--in the distance (in the fog) there were about 5 or more deer grazing... So neat to see that... I got some pictures --and they turned out good... Fog is just special.
ReplyDeleteThanks for another great poem.
Hugs,
Betsy
Thank you Betsy. I bet it was awesome. I love fog too. This time of year we have it just about every morning. Hugs to you.
DeleteVery nice, Susie. Reading Betsy's comment....I like photos in the fog too.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. There's something special about them that's for sure.
DeleteSusie, I love your poetry. It paints pictures. :) Blessings to you , xoxo,Susie
ReplyDeleteAww, thank you Susie. Blessings to you as well. xo
DeleteI almost feel like I'm walking there with you, Susie. Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. That's so nice to say.
DeleteYour poem captures the essence of a foggy morning...beautifully written! If I didn't already love a foggy morning, I would now, LOL!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Lise. Glad you enjoyed it. I really love foggy mornings too.
DeleteI like this poem today Susie. It has a flare of enchantment and mystery, and the picture goes along so well with it. Fog pictures are so magical. This is definitely one of my favorites.
ReplyDeleteI hope you are enjoying the rest of the summer days.
Love,
~Sheri
Thank you Sheri. They sure are. Hope you are having a good summer as well. love,xo
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