Best Mist Poems

A nighttides talk amid this sea of Celestia's stars
Silver wings trimmed in gold horizons brushing dreams 
Wherein only love shall glow her gleam; dropping times pebbles 
Into reverberating waters images circling reflections voices these branches...
The lightning strikes a distant chord; their rippling mirrors her refrain...

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***Dedicated to a wise old man 
I once knew***
-----" There is no such thing
        as death..." 
                  ------ an old friend...

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"The Arabian Nights"

Underneath the oceans' veil.
A mystery lies within.
Beyond Orion's belt, I shift my mind to sail.
Within, every constellation hides the secrets of sin.

Allowing me, to the time frame the world of yesterday.
I found portals with no way out.
Covering every bruise that my body had...

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As dawn breaks across the rugged land,
vague shapes begin to blurrily appear.
images of mythical creatures now seen
briefly then brushed away they dissolve.

Is it these images that give legends birth?
the tales of Unicorns and dragons?
The stories of three headed beasts
that wander through the mist shrouds?

Pea soup...

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In
Stillness
I dream of
Your last salt tears
kiss...

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The mountain peaks in colored sugar coat
Of pinks and blues and lilac violet hues
The sky, just before sunrise, all windless and clear
The day is misty, bitter cold, and crystal sheen
But I am warmed by one small ray of golden morning light

From high upon a perch...

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LOST  IN  THE   MIST 
   

Grey fingers soft as a pickpocket’s,      
Soundless and sightless, have taken the sun -      
Poacher in the kingdom of the blind. 
Guests and ghosts...

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 Wind-driven, deceptive, mysterious,
cries vixen's pulsating, debauchery
with haunting arias, mesmerizing!
The lighthouse, fearlessly, captivated,
by siren's symphonic orchestrations 
shines brighter, exclaiming calamity!
She cautions vigilant navigators...
fog's mirage masquerades mortality!..


______________________________
Inspired by Nette's Contest: The Lighthouse
9/23/14  By Carrie Richards...

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Winged Steeds of Mist

Out in the vales of freedom,
of rippled hills and plunging canyons,
there is nought but wind 
to carve through the wild horse

Light mane, nostrils flared,
veins like sacred rivers;
heart with a hawk spirit
flight strikes music from
bright pinioned hooves

Coats of shimmering autumn,
pied shadows, blinding snow
Time...

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In dampened blur of violet dawn
as angels’ weep did touch upon
a mourner’s shoulders mist enshroud - 
to soften edges gauzy haze
that hug around these painful days
and mellow memories endowed
in sacred stillness of time gone.

In silent water droplets clear
is beauty precious every sphere
collecting on the silvern...

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Hazy
remembrances
wither  in dim corners--
our laughter not  kept through night’s edge
and yet…
panes  rustling from ardor’s downfall
mirror your bare outline,
your scent wafting
like mist.



For Jenish Somadas' Contest
Let the Pens Flow--Butterfly Cinquain
5/9/2020...

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He almost said it, that one sweet word, but a moment lost it would not stay.
He reached for her hand, she lost in thought, pulled it back and looked away.
Was she the beauty he had married young, or an illusion from a fairy's joke?
Would the...

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The morning's mists
mix with the
woodland's scent
To fill me with such
wondrous happiness;
I see her wet but
gentle hands are
bent
And reaching out to
touch with
loveliness
The trees, and fills
my heart with
wonderment
At how her fingers
curl with
curiousness
To stroke the ragged
faces of the rocks,
Or run her dewy
fingers through the
phlox. 



{Written by Isaiah
Zerbst for...

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Winter spirits rise
Released from snow they dance, warmed
Weeping tears of mist


copyright Kristin Reynolds 2008...

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The mist swirls through the deep vale
shifting slowly and giving glimpses
of the lush vegetation and flowers.
Slowly it dissipates in dawn's sunlight.

Teasing as it lazily drifts 
showing for a brief second
a colourful bank rife with flowers.
Then blankets it from sight.

As the day warms up
it appears to...

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