All Is Blue

I miss the mist
That hangs high
And wanders by
So slowly

I miss the mist
Its mystical shapes
That cloak and drapes
Infinite blue

I miss the mist
When darkness falls
Like surrounding walls
Night oppressed

I miss the mist
Friend of mine
A weightless vine
O’ Heavens flight

I miss the mist
Because I do
Much like you
Missing the mist

© Michael B Davis, Southport, Australia