Misty grey clouds fog up my day,
One compounding the other, competing to be in my way.

Til finally I can no longer see,
So much as a glimmer of light in front of me.

In last desparation, I fling open a pane,
Only to hear your faint voice somewhere down the lane.

Then your voice grows,
Til finally I see a tip of thy nose.

As the fog clears I see myself laughing,
Forgetting what brought on the fog, and simply enjoying.

No one before, anywhere, EVER,
Could make their voice ring in my heart- and it will last forever.

THANK YOU