FOG
Ambiguous veils of waning light
transcending luminosity,
descend, pervade and modulate.
Chromatic silvers coruscate
as ghostly apparitions dance
and gothic spires reach up unseen.
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Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline) - Published: February 25th, 2018 02:28
- Comment from author about the poem: Inspired by Monet's paintings of London in fog - the poem that is. The monotype inspired by Modigliani at another exhibition the other side of the river - the Thames that is,
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Lauraš»
Offline)
Comments7
Beautiful write Michael.
Thanks Andy.
A fine write M.Never knew there was so much in fog! Maybe because I could not SEE anything in the fog! heehee.
You see me? *reaches to shelf for dictionary* And who is Chorus Kate? lol.
Cheers Orchi - she's the one drinking the perry.
You got the title wrong mate, this should be called dusks kitchen. We use a smoke alarm as an oven timer.
Fog at dusk eh?. Cheers dusk
Sorry - jumping in because this was SUCH a funny comment! Laughing.......
Jump in - dusks timer is still giving me a smile having just spatchcocked and spiced a chicken which is now in the oven.
Beautiful writing again, Michael. Makes me remember the foggy days in November in Zuerich. Don't have much fog here in Hawaii. Sometimes just a little bit hanging in the valleys in early morning.
Thanks Fred - as I said above fog is okay - it's when it becomes smog that it becomes a pain.
No smog either, but sometimes we get vog (volcanic fog) when the south winds come from the Big Island of Hawaii and its active volcano. The usual wind direction is east to west.
Well Michael I have seen every Sherlock Holmes movie and Jack the Ripper and they are always moving through the "Impenetrable fog"........ it's actually amazing that it was reversed! It must have been a bit frightening! Oh and loved the verse!
I can recall as a child what we called pea soups which were so thick and settled in the lowland. In my early teens I actually earned money walking in front of cars with a torch to show them the way until they got out of a dip by a local river. Haven't seen the like for many a long year.
My goodness! What history! I can see you now!
You couldn\'t then LOL
That was back in the 50s - the air is so much cleaner now and the River Thames is once again full of life and still improving year on year. Despite all this the atmosphere is still being dangerously polluted and there is so much we could do but ...!
THANKS ANDY ~ As you know the real pea soup fogs of the 19th (Orchi will remember those !) and the 20th C have largely been abated ! What I love are the MISTS you get in Snowdonia ~ Scotland (Scottish Mist !) and the Lake District ~ if you are on the Hills you have to be guided by the ubiquitous CAIRNS ! It is only when you are in a FOG or a MIST that you fully appreciate BROTHER SUN ! Love the wording of the poem very KEATSIAN ! Yours BRIAN
Cheers Brian - yes those lovely hanging mists which hover in the valleys are so mystical and romantic.
Michael,
The title reminded me of Carl Sandburgās poem, āFogā. A required read in school!
Remembering his while reading yours, I see similarities and differences! Both excellent writes! Enjoyed the read!
~Laura~
Thanks for this - and to be compared with what must be an acclaimed work is quite something - but I must confess I don't know but I soon will.
Just looked up Carl's poem and what a delight it is.
Yes, it is! Glad you looked it up!
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