A cold dreary mist
enveloping all
The day becomes night
With a soft ghostly call.
Sound becomes muted
A whisper seems loud
Nefarious dealings
In a gossamer shroud.
Walk softly, walk light
You’re way is not clear
Keep close to your breast
All those you hold dear.
The fog holds a secret
A truth yet unknown
To hear it takes courage
The strength to be shown.
A soft gentle mist
soon tickles the air
It’s a warm friendly touch
No need to beware.
Which one will it be
To fear or embrace
The fog makes a choice
To touch with its grace.