Oh Moody Mist,lift your veil,
let the horizon clearly show,
you way down heavy on these shoulders,
your face so long and pale.
Silently,like ghosts awaiting transition,
boats sit amongst waves so still,
empty masts,searching,still searching for their sail.
Even Autumns robes appear dull today,
appearing as they are,dead,
like eyes shut tight,so not even a dream can enter,
this is how you show this day.
And I wonder what purpose you serve,
for surely you have one.
Prehaps it is to bring all to quiet contemplation,
reflective thought,of brighter hues.
Prehaps for all to study clearly,
without distraction of beautys' dance.
Oh Moody Mist,how deathly you sit,
amidst Autumn robes and waiting ships.