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Foggy Days
In the early morn, the world is reborn,
Under a blanket, a display of fog.
Through the gray, the sun attempts to play,
Yet the mist holds strong, the day prolongs.
Silent and still, over field and hill,
The fog whispers secrets, an ethereal thrill.
Trees shrouded in mystery, a sight to behold,
In the fog, countless stories are told.
As the day grows late,
the sun seals its fate,
The fog slowly lifts, it will no longer wait.
The day is unveiled,
the fog has sailed,
In its wake, beauty is shown here
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I wrote this deep piece during my Creative Writing class, it was a topic I felt I could dive into without a second thought and mindlessly.