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Beautiful are the stars in the dim sky
When fireflies, in the silence of the night, shine
And the leaves dance with the tempest wind
As the clouds clad itself with darkness.

Beautiful are the things in life
Even if given with a horde of trials
Consider the roses robed with thorns
Or the cactus in the desert grown alone
On how they have dealt with life thus spines born
And on how their spines have made them strong.

Let the troubles opt to mist on its own.*


- qyf
---
LVQuigley Aug 2018
I want to run out now,
Into the fog that sends shivers up my spine

And get lost in the disorienting
Swirls and swisps of water,

And climb up the ice crystals,
Until I reach the clouds

Where I’ll lie on my back
Under the never ending stars.

Until I am ready,
To just fall off.
jane taylor May 2016
dissipating into the morning mist
through a kaleidoscope-like view
i become every part of you

©2016janetaylor
Marigolds Fever Aug 2018
Lovely sky with your palettes of blue
Wispy clouds go by
And your dark night appears
Threat of rain
Earthly grasses excitement refrain
Not to become filled with delight
For the black clouds have turned their bellow
This rain is not for you young blades
Tonight you must hope for cool to create your misty dew
And in the morning when the yellow warmth begins
You can hope once again
The next misty cloud is just for you.
Hector Mar 22
~

Water running through my fingers

it escapes, this lucidness of days

like mist in early April by the ocean.

Maybe meant to be the ways

of passing dreams leaving a trail

in quiet nights, alone it stays

my soul connecting yet so frail

this light that softly lingers-


-
H.O
March 2019

https://soundcloud.com/som-40/mist
“The quiet sense of something lost”
― Tennyson
shamamama Apr 29
Gentle silence unfolds into chaotic cacophany
My eyes once dry
open wide to watering
the rain outside
the tears inside
washing away debris
from the forest
of confusion
watering my seeds
of awakening
to this truth
now
The once quiet night turned from pattering to battering, pounding and sounding --more like the rain of jaguars and wolves awakening me into my thoughts...
Pagan Paul Nov 2018
.
The Moon doesn't love me anymore,
she may even have forgotten I exist.
Just a phantom roaming the Earth,
a mere trick of an eye in the mist.




© Pagan Paul (29/11/18)
.
KiraLili Oct 2015
Fall mist hangs heavy
Tall grass bends near shoreline edge
Moisture is everywhere
Crescent Beach Whiterock B.C. , Vancouver
breeze ripples palm groves,
a gleam in coconut fronds;
past peeps through the mist!
KiraLili Jan 2017
Under the moon on a dark Balkan night
I heard your slippers on the tile
A tingling came over me
As your silken gown touched my skin
Like warm mist in the dusk
Balkan Summer Nights TBT
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2018
We're forced, each man, to walk a trialed path—
resisted trek, uphill through blinding daze
that shrouds with crucible's perplexing haze
till fog-white skies yield quick to black clouds' wrath.
Affliction brims a thorny pack to bear
whilst dewy darkness drenches in the night,
but where is calming lamp to lend us sight?
And who will come to give us saving care?
Here through veil is heard a whisper certain,
then o'er the mountain creeps the dawning day
and with clear eyes we see the brume give way
as God retracts His theatre's curtain,
unsheathing velvet waves whose morning sheen
beyond grey mist splays vast and wondrous green.
~~~

"I will exalt You, LORD,
    for You lifted me out of the depths
    and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
LORD my God, I called to You for help,
    and You healed me.
You, LORD, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
    You spared me from going down to the pit.
Sing the praises of the LORD, you His faithful people;
    praise His holy name.
For His anger lasts only a moment,
    but His favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
    but rejoicing comes in the morning.
When I felt secure, I said,
    'I will never be shaken.'
LORD, when You favored me,
    You made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when You hid Your face,
    I was dismayed.
To You, LORD, I called;
    to the Lord I cried for mercy:
'What is gained if I am silenced,
    if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You?
    Will it proclaim Your faithfulness?
Hear, LORD, and be merciful to me;
    LORD, be my help.'
You turned my wailing into dancing;
    You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing Your praises and not be silent.
    LORD my God, I will praise You forever."

~ Psalm 30

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1464179/the-beauty-behind-the-fog/
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
Be still oh heart within this aching *****, For sight of she hath caused this thrilling tremor!

When through gossamer haze I first beheld her,
Arrayed in winters coldest blues and whites,

Her locks burning bright as silver flame,
Awash in purest of all heavenly lights!


An undulating melody drips from sweetest lips,
Tis born to me upon a gentle breeze,

I hearken to her song with all my will,
Struck with deep desire, my soul doth seize!


Were I to rush upon this Fairy apparition,
Away would vanish I deeply fear,

And if she were to leave this world my home,
Oh heart would rend and fall with many an icy tear!


But am I not a fabled son of light?
Fear in me I often boldly best!

And If I do not try to win this Maid,
Death I know will take me off to places where grandsires rest.


 A dash through cold and mist, to grasp her silken hand
Upon one knee I fall, I dare not stand!


To trembling lips I brush those tender fingertips…


With quivering voice I lay my heart open
Not daring to look into those emerald eyes,

But when I feel her hand fade in my grasp,
This heart in flaming chest, breaks and dies!

Bewitched, Beloved, Bereft... Be Still...
A tribute to romantic tragedy...

Let me know if you could visualize  what you were reading  :D
Dark Fjord Nov 2016
Pop goes, the atom drops
the pale blue sky beyond my range;

within a clash of space and time
we are bound, bends the weather vane.

Where upon that field, the light green sea
to find how youth’s white flower lies;

a long life is a dream for you and me
we trace it back to Auroran skies.

So cross that tight rope -rip-in-time,
the radio plays your song, soon
when flash, that camera bangs
down the slide we come.
looking down
The deer trail is more still than quiet
Scents becoming louder than vision
Eyes close in deep temple breath

There is no more beautiful rain
     than forest mist
Sprigs of fog that are at once
     barely seen barely felt
Bundled moss like hyssop soaked
     in holy
     flicked with urgent intent
     soft wet sprays make clothes
     my nakedness
A baptism that fills my lungs
     with the spirit I belong
> May The Forest be with You.
> As published in Dark Horse Appalachia
> As published in The Indiana Gazette
> Listen to me recite Forest Spirit at
             DarkHorse7 on Bandcamp
Marla Mar 31
Spirits and omens
Invade my field of sight
Bearing premonitions.
Their offerings
Often include
Thread-bare strands of
Wisdom,
Like the dregs of some forgotten brew
Springing hotly
From a leaking ***.

Charming haunts
Leave daunting jaunts
For those that can see
What others can't believe.
DuBray Aug 2018
The mist
Presses
On my chest
Like omnipotence
While I'm a blank thesis
With a flimsy existence
Dimitris Sarris Dec 2017
Searched in old grievous forests
in barren smoky wastelands.
Alas if she did not
for such pain she could not bear.
The beast's carcass from far away
could be seen, like a lone mountain
stood in the middle of the dale
shadowing the place
something like ash was spread all around
the beast's blood it was
and from it new life arose.
Green and flowers grew again
white roses they were.
There she found the body of her beloved
pale and cold it was, eyes shut...
Tears of grief and endless pain she shed
and sang with eyes staring the sky.
"Lo the outcome of this brave soul's intent
Lo my heart's last beats
Gods i sing you this
tale where life and death vie for control
this tale where love and pain vie in mortal hearts."
And so she closed her eyes and travelled where he did.
And so her frail longing heart came to an end.
White rose is the favorite flower of my true love
and i devote this write to her..

For those who want to check first part
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2258991/mist-ahead/
Donall Dempsey Aug 2018
MIST CREEPING SLOWLY

The morning found
only blood & feathers.

The fox leaving
only Death

& its presence

& the gossip of the frightened chickens.

My uncle swearing
‘til the sky was blue

(early morning clouds that the sun shone through) .

An embarrassed ****
like a mad alarm clock

crying like a cartoon “****-a-doodle-do! ”

My uncle dispatching him
with a quick kick.

“Oh yeah, and where the hell were you? ”

I take in the scene of the massacre
& whisper:

“I sure wouldn’t like to be    a chicken! ”

*    *      *

All that next week
my uncle stalked the chicken coup
waiting for the fox

who was clever enough
not to turn up

until the eight day
driven by his hunger & his nature

she stared into my uncle’s cold metallic sight
& the evil acrid smell of a cartridge caught in flight

as both it & the fox(shot through the head)  
fell dead

at my uncle’s muddied boot.

My gentle uncle delirious with Death
the frosted air
stained with his breath.

His voice almost transformed
into an animalistic hoot:

“Hey boy, betcha didn’t know I
could shoot! ”

The good side of the fox’s face
seemed to still laugh
at the very idea of Death.

I whimpered:

“I sure wouldn’t like to be    a fox! ”

The countryside
brutal & Biblical

demanding

a life for a life

Yet all I could see
was Death...Death.

Priest-like...

I knelt & whispered
a quick act of contrition
to the fox’s carcase.

My uncle probably thought
I was barmy.

That night in celebration
my uncle wrung a chicken’s neck

(the chicken’s name was Patricia)  

& I declined the clean
white breast

still haunted

by the chicken & the fox’s

death.
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