(sonnet # CCCCLXXXIV)
That vap'rous white, myster'ous ghost whose veil
Cloaks life, creating unknown where once were
But boring vistas stretching 'round, whose blur
In whispers twisting softly, hill and vale
Just covers, thus erasing all details
In gentle moisture's tender breath, th'allure
Of what might lie hid, buried now, obscure
Half teases, quite romances when't assails.
And how I love its dear embrace! Its light,
Pervading touch that charms where'er it goes;
Its phantom presence suits my appetite
For such charades and mystic overthrows
Of ordinary dullness, as its sleight
In subtle cheer of mist my world o'erflows.
- Author: Chic George (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 22nd, 2012 22:02
- Comment from author about the poem: Oh, it is so very gently misty/foggy! Too romantic, aye. That might be sufficient to charm the day, but when I ventured out into it, la, the effect of Winter on fog eclipsed other misty times of the year as frost decorated every little thing. I thought to try a tribute and thus began. Not only was this first sonnet a chore, but also it failed to pay the tribute. Hence the next after this. Two too many?
- Category: Nature
- Views: 44