Dance in the mist

(Because the mist is fun).

And run in the mist 

(There’s races to be won).

Like a boy in the shower

you must sing with delight.

Like a wedge-tail above the cloud 

climb to new heights.

Like troops hid in waiting, 

in the mist the forest hides.

And the mist sweeps the mountain

and refreshes her sides.

In the mist, you can hug and within you can cheer.

And cry in the mist, 

for friends there are near.

And critters and flowers rely on dear Mist

to refreshen, awaken, receive morning kiss. 

But friend, be warned: Don’t live in the mist

For in the mist you will miss

the world adorned.

Her true colours and scenes 

and who you are becomes blurred, 

And the whitewashed nothing ends up preferred.

And the mist covers things

that ought to be seen

And the mist destroys views

and bleaches the green.

So go dear, encounter the mist, 

and experience her frost.

But soon return, 

lest you become lost.

And finally, this you must wist:

Remember, you’re not at home 

when you’re in the mist.