The fog puts its dirty paws on the hills,
So it can creep to the valley below.
The vibe of summertime is what it kills
As it weaves through the forest really slow.
It brings with it, its chilly friend, the mist,
To cover the ground with a film of dew,
Taking the season in its mighty fist
To a routine that we forgot we knew.
It just means an extra layer today
Before I venture outside of my door.
I know that this monster is here to stay
Until it returns to the land of yore.
I guess I should enjoy these autumn days
When the clouds descend upon us to graze.
John Collings 