Foggy World

I got lost for a while and somehow did not find much time to write here this past month. I guess that is how it may go, sometimes I may write five or six posts in a week and sometimes I might be absent for a little while. Do not worry though, if I am to be done with this project I will write a post saying so, otherwise I will always eventually return.. though hopefully more frequently than I have lately.

Something I would like to note is that I know the comment Captcha is a pain, I will try and loosen that up. It is so strict because the moment I started this blog I received so much spam and still do. So when you are writing a comment, be sure your comment goes through otherwise I cannot post it or reply to it.

Icey, I have a couple of your replies but they were caught by the filter so I cannot post them because the Captcha was not entered right. I write to you specifically because I know you read often and there are a few of them that did not go through. I can read them, but they are stuck in a spam filter that I can not publish from. I always appreciate your comments.

I like poetry, I imagine I have mentioned that. I write poetry as well, someday I may publish my own here. For today though, I offer you another poem that caught my eye that said just the right things at just the right moment.

This cloud that I walk through.
It is foggy out this morning.
I don my coat and walk the misty lane.
Trees loom out of the lurking fog,
sprinkling dew drops in a silver rain.

The sun is a hazy globe,
the air is tinged with morning dew
and I am at peace with the world,
alone, in this cloud that I walk through.

Hedgerows, cocooned in frosty webs,
thin ice crunching beneath my feet,
and my breath casts crystals in the air
and the dew on my tongue is cool and sweet.

I pause and look around,
a sea of grass, brittle in the freezing air,
a white capped arctic ocean,
soon to disappear.

I am happy in this foggy world,
my imagination is wild and free
and in ghostly wisps of drifting fog,
the child within, runs wild in me.

Ambrose Harte = Scattered Thoughts

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