In the hush of dawn, the fog descends,
A silken shroud upon the waking earth,
Whispering secrets that the night lends,
To the fields and forests, giving birth.

Ghostly tendrils weave through trees,
A dance of shadows in the muted glow,
Softly cloaking every breeze,
In the gentle embrace of the mist below.

The world is hushed in silvered grace,
Where dreams linger, wrapped in grey,
Each step a journey, each breath a trace,
Of the mysteries hidden in the fog’s sway.

Yet as the sun begins to rise,
The fog retreats to its shadowed lair,
Leaving the land with clearer skies,
And the promise of secrets whispered there.