In The Mists Of Time--By Paul Griffiths--England

In The Mists Of Time

The fog descends yet I see so clear.
Through the mists of time I have nothing to fear.
I see ghostly apparitions start to form.
Slowly they approach me across the lawn.

A carpet of green shimmers with a silvery hue.
As ghostly tears fall on the grass as early morning dew.
From out of the mists of time a face appears.
I recognize her loving smile yet she sheds no tears.

As the fog envelops me in its cold embrace.
I feel her ice cold fingers gently touch my face.
She presses her face so softly against my skin.
My heart beats faster as I breathe her in.

I feel her arms around me so cold yet warm.
We dance slowly in circles across the lawn.
A dance of love in the early morning mist.
I feel so cold but she warms me with her kiss.

She whispers she has to go, I cry no wait!
As fog begins to lift, she slowly starts to dissipate.
I can only watch as she vanishes and then she's gone.
Floating in the mist of time where her spirit it lives on.

Paul Griffiths is a poet from Birkenhead, England.