Soft, the morning mist
All of nature has been kissed
Effervescent joy.
The mist that drifts away at dawn, leaving but dew in the fields, shall rise and gather into a cloud and then fall down in rain. And not unlike the mist have I been. In the stillness of the night I have walked in your streets, and my spirit has entered your houses,
And your heart-beats were in my heart, and your breath was upon my face, and I knew you all.
Kahlil Gibran
Misty Blue Dorothy Moore
She wore a cloak of deep sorrow through her life, which increased her
strange beauty and dignity, as a tree in blossom is more lovely when
seen through the mist of dawn.
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