The Fog

The fog lay offshore
Like a stone wall of grey
A threat to the warmth
Of a bright summer day
Far off in the distance
A foghorn is heard
Oer the slow flapping wings
Of a sea-going bird

It slowly crept in
Till it covered the land
A soft hazy shroud
Over forest and sand
No cool ocean breath -
All was quiet and still
The houses were shadows
On top of the hill

It hung in the air
Like soft fairy wings
And tendrils of dampness
Curled round everything
Till the sun reappeared
Like a slow burning flame
And the fog crept away
Just as soft as it came

© 2005 Fay Herridge

Roaming Thoughts

© Fayz World & Sugarwolf Designs