The Flowers and the Fog

The ethereal fog hovered on the hill, 

moisture seeping from its shroud,

not rain, just a cloud -

in between the bay and sky, we were,

with paths of wildflowers,

like drops of purple dye, coloring in the lines

We saw a heart in a rock, like my soft tones

from an unknown place

struggling to escape my bones

The wisps of water in the air 

put a filter on my lens,

my skin, my hair -

like when you sprayed the spiderwebs

so you could find the spiders

So I could see the beauty that was there

when your eyes went searching for the treasure

focused like cool fire

And despite the hue of everything,

distorted blue,

my desire seeped through like the tips of the orange grass

A burning meadow, though abstract

But maybe somewhere in the flowers and the fog was a real place

Reviews

[Onlyme]

A great imagination, that sparkled and shone brightly as I read. Took me to a warm place to simply enjoy.