Dreams of misty forests
Keep me walking in my sleep
Searching for the answers
I find only with my feet

Songs of old religions
Sultry scent of old perfumes
Strange fires burn within me
I dance to their ancient tune

Memories and voices
Echoing through my mind
The truth is far stranger
Than any fantasy I may find

Dreams of dancing figures
Haunting every step I take
These songs will keep on singing
Until I am awake

Greetings my Beauties! Thought this would be proper for the time of year, so enjoy and Happy Samhain! :)

Before my eyes I see a dreamy sight:
Her sleepy look does glaze over the days,
As olden vintage clothing of her sways,
Absent of strength, away from lively might.
Her autumn tresses hide her face who's bright,
Aglow surrounded by the daily rays
Who put her, except the rest, in a haze
Like a murky, filmy and misty night.

Who she might be, I do not know, alas,
She's distant from my sight, like she's to me,
But still this filmy tale I did narrate,
About a hazy mood, about a lass,
Who did inspire me. Now I hope she
Will find a bright, soothing, yet lively state.

Brent Kincaid May 2016

Sometimes it rains a bit
And you aren’t prepared
But it can be rather pretty
So, don’t be so scared.
It cools the temperature
From the clouds above,
Makes a walk the kind
The kind you grow to love.

You won’t need an umbrella;
So what if it’s a smattering?
Nothing wrong with that,
A bit of misty spattering?
Just a bit of a shower
Nothing bad in that.
Be a very happy person,
Under the brim of a hat

A bit of a puddle at times
Depending on your shoes.
It is not a big tragedy
No reason for the blues.
It’s just you and nature
Enjoying the day together.
Mother Nature and child
Spending time with each other.

So go ahead and wander
Out in the misting rain.
Take a cleansing saunter
Let weather clear the brain.
Celebrate just being here
A world gone squeaky clean
Like a painting by Monet
In an artist’s magazine.

loveless Feb 2016

The misty eyes
An angel makes me cry
The happy tears

Ily mily mommy sweet
Syn Feb 2016

I shout out on the misty cliff
My echo answers back
Alone I stand to blame for this
Left searching for the facts

The Stars know I have spent my life
In search of how to reach them
I've jumped and fallen, climbed and fell
My thoughts, I want to teach them

If I can give my knowledge up
They stars can shine it down
They'll teach the world my secrets kept
Then maybe we won't drown

grumpy thumb Oct 2015

Vision obscured by soft misty rain dampening harsh city lights
spilling slippery from storefronts and traffic train
shimmering upon pavements
between steps and stains.
soft misty rain
don't I know you?

If Chicken Little's scare tactics are true
I would do anything to catch the sky for you.
I would hold that sky just as long as I could
Whether you loved me or not I swear that I would
I would lift it until I could hold it no more
With arms and legs shaking because it's you I adore.

The sky couldn't crush my love for you dear.
As you escaped danger I'd tell you through tears
That "You were the one that I held in my heart,
My one and only a pure work of art.
You never knew this but that makes it okay,
Because if it's my life for yours, well that's one debt I'll pay."

My love wouldn't save me or at least I couldn't be sure.
Like the sky on my shoulders it's something I would endure.
Your love wasn't for me something I just couldn't own.
But now the sky is too heavy as I let out a moan.
"I'll see you again my love, maybe in a dream with a kiss."
As the sky falls down on me I'm glad it ended like this.

Kenshō Mar 2015

When my mind is
vacant and empty,
I can sense the Lord
Orchestrating beauty
From the heart of the void.

Tranquility of a still morning
Is worth more to me
Than everything and more.
Compared to the stress
Of the speeding world.

Mark Ball Nov 2014

Come misty-mouthed girl,
To a not so wonderful world.
Make me forget.
The investment of the other within me
has come to fill me with regret.

O take me back to before I could see all their flaws,
Before the familiarity of friendship clouded our view.
Back to when I could have believed in this so called 'love',
And could have believed in you.

Now a thick, dense obsession rises day to day
from within locked cupboards.
But not the naive, self-named kind of days once past;
The kind that clings to your personality
Like your sugar stained teeth the morning after cider;
A repulsive grit.

But I am looking for you.
Not an emissary of my misery,
But an idiosyncratic icon of
My ignorant days before I knew of
Poems, plays or 'Liberation'.
Just come and be my salvation.

My misty-mouthed girl.

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