All through the woods and twixt the brooks,
The Mist took up her stay;
In foxes' dens and badgers' sets,
Her Grace came out to play.
She cast a sheet 'pon bough and leaf -
She left a diamond veil -
And though the Golden Orb shone down,
Her Grace would yet prevail.
The wind would move her 'bout the fields,
And grains of corn would cling;
But with the breeze, she danced and swayed,
And made the blackbirds sing.
About midday, the sun would stay,
And harmony was found:
Her Grace relaxed her silver grasp
And let the Orb beat down.
Wanted to say congrats and leave a proper comment! This poem feels magical, and truly illustrates that wonder found in nature, that often we overlook or can't even properly realize or have words for. I keep coming back to the title, and how regally you reference the mist as "Her Grace" and refer to the sun as "The Orb". "Orb" is not a word I come across often, but when I do, I immediately think of something celestial. A presence that is more than light, offering wisdom perhaps, and a warmth that is not just physical. Your use of language, rhythm and rhyme all come together beautifully to capture these moments. There is also an elegance I found in reading this, that every part of nature has dignity and a role, and they all work together to complete the day, to harmonize. Congrats again!
I don't think I've ever read a poem dedicated to the mist. Sure, many poems mention it but, to write a whole poem about it and, so beautifully done has left me with out words. The rhyming and flow was as mesmerizing as the topic...stunning piece, congrats on your well deserving win.