Related quotes: The mist moved across the...

Mist

The mist moved across the field
swallowing up everything in its path.
A white blanket that hovered
inches above the ground.
It came in the cool of dawn
and vanished like a ghost
near the beginning of the day.
While it stayed, you could not see
anything within a foot of thee.
The mist that came like a sleeking ghost
was now gone after being hit
by the rays of the morning sun.

27 September 2008

poem by David Harris
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Related quotes

Early Works - Simple Beginnings

A fairy with gossamer wings
in a field of multi-colour
flits from flower to flower
daisy and buttercup
petal and leaf.

Sunshine on dew drops
sparkle of jewelled head
morning mist like sleeking ghost
of blanket grey
beginning morning hour.

23 October 1979

poem by David Harris
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A September Morn

The early morning mist
submerged the trees,
making them into islands
dotted on a sea of white.
A couple of rabbits scampered
among the dew wet grass
their white cotton tails
bobbing up and down
as they had their breakfast
on the sweet grassy ground.
The first spears of sunlight
broke across the sky
as the day awoke
before my sleepy eyes.

14 September 2008

poem by David Harris
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A Peaceful Morning

From a sea of mist,
the sleeping trees emerged
under a cloudless sky
as the sun’s warming rays
lit up the surrounding hills.
Rabbits scampered on the grass;
birds glided in the sky,
the world began to awake
on a beautiful September morn.
No chill penetrated the air
and from the vantage point
where I stood was just a peaceful morning
emerging to welcome the dawning day.

20 September 2008

poem by David Harris
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The Ghost of Tower Two

The piled debris had been removed
The smell of death was gone
The first time she appeared to me
one cool September morn

Translucent and ethereal, to my disbelieving eye
Like many a wingless angel who’d tried and failed to fly
Whatever was she doing here, why now and not before
peering in my window on the forty second floor.

I felt a chill – a sense of dread I’d never felt before
My superstitious peasant brain was coming to the fore.
And yet I sensed no threat of doom, no anger out of you
floating there before me, the ghost of tower two.

There was sadness in your eyes for all you had foregone
Deprived of youth and love and life-all vanished now and gone
As morning light began to glow you faded from my view
But I will not forget you soon, the ghost of tower two.

Perhaps she’s seeking closure, the discovery of a bone
Or has unfinished business that keeps her here alone
Or maybe we’ve forgotten them- what we promised not to do
And deserve now to be haunted by the ghost of tower two.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Holy Is The Ghost

Do I believe that you can be,
Saved?
It's not up to me,
To place that judgement made.

And,
Do I believe that you can be,
Saved?
It's not up to me,
To grade or rate your days!

I'm not one to sum up with a fuss...
Who has had it tough,
Without a suffering one covers.

Some days I slip away to pray.
Knowing the expense,
Of the dues I had to pay.
And,
Some days I slip away to pray.
Knowing the expense,
Of the dues I had to pay.

Do I believe that you can be,
Saved?
It's not up to me,
To place that judgement made.

Holy is the Ghost,
That paves the way!
Holy is the Ghost,
That saves!

Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.

In the morning,
That Ghost saves.
In the evening,
That Ghost saves.
From the dawn and through the night time too!

Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.

In the morning,
That Ghost saves.
In the evening,
That Ghost saves.
From the dawn and through the night time too!

Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.

From the dawn and through the night time too!
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visual Vampire Romeo

When the sparkling princess
Walked into the rose garden
On this cool autumn night
Something didn't feel right

When nightfall descended
With a veil of cool mist
There was no moon in sight
A vampire bat took flight

I looked through the mist
He just couldn't resist
This visual vampire romeo
Called out to me
Hey baby!
You want to ride with me
I only laughed

Knew he wanted my blood and soul
Showed him my new glow
From golden sun magic
Uncovered my hair
Threw off my wrap
His disappearance was fast
As the ghost of christmas past

poem by Rachel Nichols
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Mist On A Monday Morning

I wake and yawn at the crack of dawn
With dewdrops on my feet
As I rise up to greet the morning
Nothing much to eat
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
My only friend is mist on a monday morning
Pick up my sack and walk for miles
Never thinking why
To the brewers yard where I can sit
And watch my life go by
Drink and drink all day till my memory melts away
I need a friend like mist on a monday morning
Wheres my wife, has she gone
I hear misty morning call
One foot resting in the grave
Destined not to see her anymore
Theres a den in the grass by the autopath
Of corrugated steel
I may be sleeping there tonight
And depending how I feel
Damp and dirty place
Printing sorrow on my face
With nothing but the mist on a monday morning
Chorus
From... I feel the sin
Like wheels upon my feet
Intoxicated by the night
I stumbled in the street
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
And drift into the mist on a monday morning

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain in the Bush

The steady soaking of the rain,
The bush all sad and sombre;
The trees are weeping in their pain,
Dank leaves the ground encumber.
A dismal ghost of silence strays
From shade to dusky daylight;
O'er all a whispered horror weighs,
Like mist athwart the grey light.
A frightened robin in the ferns
Peeks fearfully and lonely,
But back to comfort him returns
The drip of rain-drops only.
The fern-fronds shiver when they feel
Cold foot-prints press like mist, as
Dim forms beneath the creepers steal
And vanish in the vistas.

poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Beneath a morning mist

Beneath a morning mist
~
A morning mist hides
the potential of a beautiful sky
low cloud covers streets and roads
the moist dew of the air
cold against the skin
a freshness to the lungs
welcomed regardless
eyes look into the nothingness
eagerly anticipating the sun
to break through its light
and warm the gardens
meanwhile the mist is silent
quietly haunting all
this is just a day beginning
lets pray its beautiful

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Ghost

Tell me
Who is not a ghost
Ghost is a ghost
To afraid ghost
Is to afraid thyself
It is good to
Go with the ghost
Ghost is for a
Short time with us
Ghost left
Our works stop.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Morning Mist

In the shroud of morning mist
that herald a new day
dark monsters scurry back and forth,
as they hurry on their way.

Their roars are swallowed up
as silence consumes all
in the shroud of the morning mist
that heralds a new day.

29 September 2010

poem by David Harris
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Ghost

I'm like a ghost
Flying in the night
Im in the darkness of light

Im a ghost or at least thats how I feel
Im like a zombie
Things have taken over.

Im like a ghost
Hovering over myself
Looking down at the mess
Labelled with my name

I see the mess below me
The mess is me
Im a ghost of my formal self

Im a ghost that floats above
Im a ghost of life
A ghost of my old self
Half the person I used to be

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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The Bloom is not a Bloom

Bloom not bloom
mist not mist
Night half come
heaven bright go
Come like spring dream how long time?
Go like morning cloud not find place The bloom is not a bloom,
The mist not mist.
At midnight she comes,
And goes again at dawn.
She comes like a spring dream -
how long will she stay?
She goes like morning cloud, without a trace.

poem by Bai Juyi
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Crazy Jane And Jack The Journeyman

I know, although when looks meet
I tremble to the bone,
The more I leave the door unlatched
The sooner love is gone,
For love is but a skein unwound
Between the dark and dawn.

A lonely ghost the ghost is
That to God shall come;
I - love's skein upon the ground,
My body in the tomb -
Shall leap into the light lost
In my mother's womb.

But were I left to lie alone
In an empty bed,
The skein so bound us ghost to ghost
When he turned his head
passing on the road that night,
Mine must walk when dead.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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The glow in the fog and mist

The spectral glow of a bobbing lantern
As if tossed upon a stormy sea

Appearing..then fading anon, absorbed
In foggy essence, to fade again so feebly

Once more, ere sinking in finality
Into the quicksand of mist

Mere glow of candle, so dear to see
Seen now…then not, …with capricious twist

The spectral light, drifts through the night
As a ghost through fog and mist

Through ribs of rain, the tremulous light
Chills the brain, befogs the sight

Dimly lit, by lanterns in the mist
Dark clouds upon the soul this night

Fog is the dark abode of lost souls
Who wander without rest with lantern high

The mist, the breath, of hollow death
The fog, the food, on which to persist

Tis best my friend, not to be, nor ne'r to see….
The glow in the fog and mist

poem by David Whalen
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[Month of] June

Rise up, and do begin the day's adorning;
The Summer dark is but the dawn of day.
The last of sunset fades into the morning,
The morning calls you from the dark away.
The holy mist, the white mist of the morning,
Was wreathing upward on my lonely way.
The way was waiting for your own adorning
That should complete the broad adorned day.

Rise up, and do begin the day's adorning;
The little eastern clouds are dapple grey:
There will be wind among the leaves to-day;
It is the very promise of the morning.
Lux Tua Via Mea: your light's my way -
Then do rise up and make it perfect day.

poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Ghost Light

While walking through
our western town at dusk
I noticed a light on one of the buildings.
At first I thought it was a reflection,
but standing directly in front of it,
the light did not diminish,
instead it moved up and down
and then moved along the building
and onto another one.
Now I know the town is haunted,
for this is not the first time
I have experienced it,
but whatever the ghost light was
it only stayed for about ten minutes,
then it simply faded away.

19 July 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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