White Fog by Sarah Teasdale
Heaven-invading hills are drowned
In wide moving waves of mist,
Phlox before my door are wound
In dripping wreaths of amethyst.
Ten feet away the solid earth
Changes into melting cloud,
There is a hush of pain and mirth,
No bird has heart to speak aloud.
Here in a world without a sky,
Without the ground, without the sea,
The one unchanging thing is I,
Myself remains to comfort me.

Spooky looking. Now I'm the one who has chills!
ReplyDeleteGorgeous photos and poem. I love it! Well done!
ReplyDeleteEspecially like the picture of the tree...
ReplyDeleteWe must be sharing the weather pattern ... we've been fogged in all day long out here in Cambridgeshire.
Isn't it gorgeous! It's like this every morning and then we get some beautiful sunshine (needed when you have this many kids home for half term!). Tonight it's thick again... I guess EWE aren't getting the sunshine though?
ReplyDeletelovely pictures and words!
ReplyDelete