A faint fog lifts, invigorates
My world this morn and saturates
The soil where dormant seeds await
In memories of mind.
It sprouts in me a timid tale,
The scents and smells of summer trail
I tread, the salt of sea and sail,
And songs of better times.
There is a flavor in the mist
Of peppermint and licorice,
A girl I knew and loved and miss,
Youth’s fires that I long.
I delve in it and fly away
To land of bliss and dawn of ray,
To richer rhymes and simpler day
When love could do no wrong.
Eric M. Vogt