Heinelet II
They met, as it were, in a mist,
Pale, curious, eager, uncertain.
When each clasped the other and kissed,
The mist rolled aside like a curtain.
There were fields of delight to explore,
Where it seemed that their lips could not sever.
Now their lips are as lone as before
And the cold mist is thicker than ever.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Related quotes
The Mist
Through the mist I wander.
With all the time to ponder.
Beasts of such ferocity come at me with such intensity.
I continue on of neccesity,
to find a true philosophy.
The mists so dense.
I need to make recommpence.
For all that's wrong I must confess.
I cannot stand this lonley test.
In the mist and in the midst.
I'm truly blind it gives me fits.
The mist is thick,
it eats you cold and quick.
Beats you madly like a switch.
The mist is dark it kills the heart.
Madly eats you like a shark.
The mist is cold and I grow old.
Hopefully soon I'll find my hold.
poem by Michael McParland
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Last Answers
I wrote a poem on the mist
And a woman asked me what I meant by it.
I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist,
how pearl and gray of it mix and reel,
And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening
into points of mystery quivering with color.
I answered:
The whole world was mist once long ago and some day
it will all go back to mist,
Our skulls and lungs are more water than bone and tissue
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers
Go running back to dust and mist.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Mist and Tears
There's a mist that's forming
over the trees I see.
The sight of it forming
does something to me.
It blurs the vision
in my ageing eyes.
It dulls my senses
and I realize that
mist and tears
that quickly form
are for me the silence
before the storm.
Ah! the storm I say
is making its way
into my wakefulness
on every day.
There's no way to escape
this enveloping mist
unless I feel that
I've just been kissed
by you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Surrealistic
lip glossed
lip of glass
cold water
and a dream
your lips
to my lips
a mist by
the window
the widow
dreams at
noonday.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Rape Of The Mist
High o’er the clouds a Sunbeam shone,
And far down under him,
With a subtle grace that was all her own,
The Mist gleamed, fair and dim.
He looked at her with burning eyes
And longed to fall at her feet;
Of all sweet things there under the skies,
He thought her the thing most sweet.
He had wooed oft, as a Sunbeam may,
Wave, and blossom, and flower;
But never before had he felt the sway
Of a great love’s mighty power.
Tall cloud-mountains and vast space-seas,
Wind, and tempest, and fire –
What obstacles such as these
To a heart that is filled with desire?
Boldly he trod over cloud and star,
Boldly he swam through space,
She caught the glow of his eyes afar
And veiled her delicate face.
He was so strong and he was so bright,
And his breath was a breath of flame;
The Mist grew pale with a vague, strange fright,
As fond, yet fierce, he came.
Close to his heart she was clasped and kissed;
She swooned in love’s alarms,
And dead lay the beautiful pale-faced Mist
In the Sunbeam’s passionate arms.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Stone, Mirror and Mist
Stone, mirror and mist;
All enrapture me.
I can’t resist
Time’s trinity.
As I try in the mirror
To change the stone,
Mist draws nearer
Till I can’t see on my own.
Then I turn my attention
To the mirror at hand;
Stone in mind, but not mention;
Mist shifting like sand.
I battle the mirror.
There can be only one.
When image is clearer
I’ll know I have won.
Only then will mist clear.
Stone will have no say.
A bygone will be fear
And I’ll be on my way.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Mist Of Desire
Well, here it comes again
That old feelin' so strong
You came into my life
I won your love for a song
And when I see you in my mind baby
Think of the words you will say
And in a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
I feel the love when we touch
I can see it in your face
I get lost in the shadows of your warm embrace
And you rush into my arms
My emotions run wild
And we're off to a love world
In a mist of desire
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Comes The Changes
When the days are full of fun,
Bright, warm with a lovely sun,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s a mist across the moon.
When a face displays a smile,
And it’s trying to beguile,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s a mist across the moon.
When one’s heart begins to fly,
Finding love with a great guy,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s a mist across the moon.
Life’s full of times that shatter,
The things that really matter,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s no mist across the moon.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Demystified for M' lady Cate
The mist persists, it will insist
it has the right to block the light
with trailing wisps of dirty white.
The mist is wrong and it will learn
to leave when it has served its turn
Because the sun will rise and burn
the remnants of the mist away
There is no way that it can stay
once the bright sun comes out to play.
The mist defeated has to go.
It leaves reluctantly and slow
but where it goes I do not know.
It will return with fall of night
lurk in the darkness hid from sight.
Unless outlined by the moonlight.
The silver light makes it appear
to be the ghosts which cause men fear.
But they will quickly disappear
When banks of cloud obscure the light.
Be re-absorbed into the night.
to their dismay but men’s delight.
The mists persist they wont desist
as long as day and night exist
and if they did they would be missed.
The moisture which the mist supply
the plants trees drink thirstily.
Without the mists some plants would die.
1-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Yet This Is The Mist I Missed
You insisted the mist,
I should miss...
In the midst,
Of intimacy.
Was mist missed,
But not...
In the midst,
Of what we did...
To do.
This sits with me not to forget.
Yet this is the mist,
I missed.
In remission reminiscing,
Intimately we did kiss.
And without specific resistance,
You permitted done...
We did...
To let do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hard Hearted November
A cold grey mist…
Tiptoes aimlessly about
It's only companions
A few scudding clouds
That mill thru the sky
And wander without
And cast shadows
Upon farm fields and wilds
Tis the hard heart of November
A month as indecisive as mist
A month so incisive….bestowed
with the caprice of a witch
Which has by mistake
Or perhaps by misgiving
Allowed to endow us
The day of Thanksgiving
And once realized
That a mistake has been made
Takes a cold vow
That this won't be forgiven
So it beckons to December
In a voice chill and shrill
And bades it remember
And sure December will…
Give ear to November's
Entreaty so bold…
That December not delay
To bring on the cold
Then reclines November
In supine repose
Gives carte blanche to Jack Frost
To nip anyone's nose
Pulls up blanket of mist
Lies down her head
Then cooly welcomes December
…Into her bed…
poem by David Whalen
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Sonnet. Written Upon The Top Of Ben Nevis
Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud
Upon the top of Nevis, blind in mist!
I look into the chasms, and a shroud
Vapourous doth hide them, -- just so much I wist
Mankind do know of hell; I look o'erhead,
And there is sullen mist, -- even so much
Mankind can tell of heaven; mist is spread
Before the earth, beneath me, -- even such,
Even so vague is man's sight of himself!
Here are the craggy stones beneath my feet,--
Thus much I know that, a poor witless elf,
I tread on them, -- that all my eye doth meet
Is mist and crag, not only on this height,
But in the world of thought and mental might!
poem by John Keats
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Love In A Mist
Light love in a mist, by the midsummer moon misguided,
Scarce seen in the twilight garden if gloom insist,
Seems vainly to seek for a star whose gleam has derided
Light love in a mist.
All day in the sun, when the breezes do all they list,
His soft blue raiment of cloudlike blossom abided
Unrent and unwithered of winds and of rays that kissed.
Blithe-hearted or sad, as the cloud or the sun subsided,
Love smiled in the flower with a meaning whereof none wist
Save two that beheld, as a gleam that before them glided,
Light love in a mist.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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.
Visit Malaysia Year Poem - Cameron Highlands Boh Tea - A Lady Rolling in Pink (State of Pahang)
refreshing dawn mist, crisp air
and sunshine tiptoe through tender lips,
shower their warmth over a secluded valley
where a lady rolling in pink dances
then rushes to a a meaningful rendevouz
with the benecfactor of passions
dawn mist, crisp air, sunshine and
mountain loam rolled up in tender
brown and now unveiled through
spring water, they are the simple joy
that raises the morning sun up my sky
i dont need that many readers,
just a few who care to weigh every word
to savour its intrinsic value
they too are my tea that elevates
the morning sun up my sky
(inspired after a visit to the premier highlands destination in Malaysia the Cameron Highlands, a place famous for its Boh Tea)
the sun up my sky
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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Halloween Quartet No 1 Graveyard Special
Standing at the bus stop waiting,
when the stranger asked.
“Has anyone seen the Graveyard Special?
I hope I haven’t missed it
or they won’t let me out next year.”
I shook my head and said. “Sorry, no.”
The stranger turned to me.
He wore a tuxedo, bow tie and patent polished shoes.
He looked like a dancer
and an odd smell rose around him
that of rotting decay.
“Been a nice night, hasn’t it.”
“Yes, but they forecast rain.”
“Been out with your girlfriend
and now catching the last bus home? ”
“No, I haven’t got one.”
A cloud passed across the moon
and the strangers face became partially visible
under the pale light of the moon.
A pale face with a sullen look
engraved with hard shadows.
“Going home? ” I asked,
“Yes, we are only allowed out once a year.”
“You live in an old people’s home? ”
“Something like that.” Returned a whispery reply.
A mist descended and swirled around us.
“My bus I can see it.”
The mist became thicker swallowing us up.
The brightly lit bus stopped,
its destination board read Graveyard Special.
The stranger got on and the bus doors shut.
Into the mist, it went to be swallowed up.
The mist then evaporated as quickly as it came.
My bus arrived and as I paid my ticket I remarked.
“I didn’t know the bus company
put on a special bus just for Halloween.”
The driver shook his head and said.
“They don’t, that bus is for the dead ones
who get out once a year.
I have been following it on its route
as it picks them up one by one
to take them back before
the first streaks of dawn appear in the sky.
It takes them back to the graveyard
for another year to stay.”
Getting my ticket, I sat
my hands trembling at the thought
that I had spoken to a ghost.
poem by David Harris
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1692
(copyright nazareth, tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Mist upon the hill can remember murder,
Mist upon the hill that once flowed with blood,
Helped to cover up an approaching army,
Hid the killing lust in the eyes of men.
Sitting by the fire was a sentry sleeping,
Rolled up in their beds were children that play,
Unsuspecting what was to fall upon them,
None of them would see the dawn next day.
Bloody were the blades that fell on children,
Hate the blinding light tried to kill a name,
The mountains only know all the souls that died there,
Glen coe from that day can recall the shame.
The quiet of the night never gave them warning,
The silence of the hills wouldn't let them know,
They'd never rise again on a mist filled morning,
Never see the sunrise above glen coe.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rondel.
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear;
The passers-by as ghosts appear,
Or things whose souls have taken flight
As they drift by in the weird light,
Each on its shadowy career —
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear.
A dead town were less sad a sight
With its dead men and women here,
So one might see them passing near
Beyond the death of love's delight!
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear.
poem by Robert Crawford
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