The Fog

The Fog rolls in from far away,

spreading across the the open bay,

thick and moist blanket of grey,

holding back the light of day,

shrowding the view of all around,

while the lighthouse echoes its lonely sound,

slowly rising, thick then thin,

allowing the sun to filter in,

the Fog burns off with little warning,

only to return another morning.

copyright 1999 Andy

Go Surf Cards

Coloring Book

Art Studio

Surf Photos

Stickers

T-shirts

< more poems