Mist Like a Veil

A poem

photo from author

Hills across the water are shrouded in fine mist
it is raining over there
but appears like an antique veil
like my great-grandmother wore for her wedding

Masts of sailing boats loom in vivid reds and blues
the damp air hangs as if to dry
but there is stillness, no movement of air
pausing, I inhale the salt scent, the peace

All seems silently sleeping, like a spell cast
this is my soul food, this and woods
a warbler sings its song breaking the silence
with an enchanting song to woo his mate and nest

This water, sea, is my front garden, soothing,
nurturing my heart while it aches
for love and to love another, risk again

Hills across the water are shrouded in mist

The hush can be heard
in my inmost heart

Published in The Lark

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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