Solid air costumes all the trees
With wedding garb in still of day,
Draws icy fingers up swords of grass
Overtaking hollows and turned rows.
Wall of fog taunts with hidden hope
Hither come and find what might be.
Hidden just beyond its circled line
Wealth, romance, or fame must wait
For those who dare to enter in.
Closer, closer step, seeking ones,
The voice of frozen silk plights its troth
Promises dreams, but dreamers wake.
Envelopes of frigid fog give way
Illusions vanish in broad daylight
Trees dressed in melting tatters
Vigil keep for false fog-made love.