A study in greys, the lake and the trees,
She appeared in the haze, swirls of mist in the breeze,
A phantom, unreal, like a dream, a part of the scene.
She danced and entranced as, gliding gracefully,
She drew closer and closer with each sweep
Of her feet, until gradually she stopped
Within reach of his arms, outstretched to touch
This vision of beauty. But she wasn’t there –
Naught but the cold damp air.
©Denise G Allen, 05 March 2013 16:14