The Fog~

I had to write a poem for school full of metaphors. 
(Photography by Emma Catherine Smith.)

Curling white tendrils,

Reaching, transparent fingers,

Ghostly hands extended,

It undulates and lingers. 

Reaching for your face,

Wrapping arms about you.

Enfolded in the aura

Of evaporated dew.

Searching, seeking hold

To draw you softly in,

Lead you through the woods,

Disorient and spin. 

The magic of the mist

In the cooling hush

Of the day's end drawing near

Past your face will brush.

Impalpable, soft veil

Of shy, flirtatious air,

The fog is free, erratic,

Has not a single care. 

Copyright Hannah Scarlett 2013