Emerging into after-dawn
Morning mist tickles my eyes
A delicate curtain wherein
Reality is disguised
Its gentle kisses greet my face
I feel its moist sweet breath
Surrounding but not stifling
A shiv'ring soft caress
Within its tranquil fresh embrace
Enveloped I can dance
Sprinkled by tingling damp delight
Normal'ty thrown askance
I reach to breathe it safely in
Eternally secure
And find it slips clear through my grasp
Vaporously impure
Mist wand'ring lost, quite anchorless
Swiftly it comes and goes
Dear whispers fade away before
We've scarcely said 'hello'
Left craving its sensitive touch
And dainty thrilling scent
Chilled, I yearn for its uncertain
Return from whence it went.
poem copyright 2004 skye wilson
The Golden Seashell
