The Fog

Take the house,
and the land on which it sits.
Nip the car in the drowsy driveway.
Seduce the overfed bank accounts,
and fill your pockets with the useless jewellery buried in the safe.

But leave me the seductive sunrises and the scintillating golden sunsets.
Bequeath me, the crisp smells of a mid-afternoon rain rising from the hot asphalt covered roads.
Package to go, those warm, salty tastes of the sea, cuddled in blankets of fresh, dewy ocean mist
racing to extend hugs.

Take the designer suits, cufflinks, and the pocket watch;
the Patek Philippe and Rolex that sit idle and alone;
pamper your fantasies in the rich Egyptian cotton sheets still pining in the closet;
drown your hunger in pancakes and delicious caviar;
and wash away your bleeding sorrows in Cristal  champagne
to mask the solitude of your unfurnished plans.

But leave me my precious memories, feisty dreams and raging desires,

cocooned in soft silky green textures.
I will take custody of the sumptuous smiles swinging off the walls;
the luscious laughter skipping like youngsters through the halls;
and the wistful wishes whispering wishes constantly in my ears.

Gladly,
I will keep the promises that the sun will shine tomorrow;
hold dear the crackling carols crisply cradling carousels of joy;
while snowflakes hover like mistletoe inviting long kisses.
I will embrace ever so tightly the soft winds of good health
as the glistening giggles of children’s laughter cuddle the cool air;
for today is a nice day to celebrate.

Finally, the fog has lifted,
the thunder is muzzled, and the raindrops sprinkle light dustings of snow.
And though there are no new footprints,
a familiar path, decorated with bright green bells and black, blue, and white baubles,
guides my heart home.


4 thoughts on “The Fog”

  1. Powerful use of contradiction and confusion in poet’s voice:
    – glad that the hanging in there is over but will keep lasting sweet memories. How can this contrast result in ‘gladness’ particularly as the poet’s losses are tangible but the hopes only imaginary and unassisted? There is incompleteness here, similar to the leaver’s unfurnished plans.

    Enjoyable confusion in the poet’s voice. Is the poet escaping through this poem from personal frustration of the inevitability of loss by embracing imaginary and intangible climate change in guaranteed nature’s beauties and favours?

    If the latter, they are universal and can be obtained/ accessed also by the selfish leaver, not just the poet!

    Perplexing and confused assonance arising from the power of contrast of choice, power of determination and forwardness rather than halucinating about a past perhaps over-glorifief

  2. Dr Gosnell L York

    Thanks for sharing with us the reminder that, ultimately, what really matters most in life are not materialistic stuff and still more stuff in our possession but the “simple things if life.”

  3. I quite enjoyed this. So often the most important things in life are not prioritized and cherished. Here’s hoping that the fog will soon lift for us all.

    Superb piece Your Excellency.

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