The fog was thicker than a stray dog with fleas.
We were leaving a Mission Bay Bar, if you please,
But the fog was so thick you could probably seize
Big hunks of it that clung to our car
Like tufts of cotton candy you see at the fair.
We had to drive with the door open so we could see
The yellow line on the street, below our knees.
This was in the 50's, on our way back to base.
Driving slowly was all we could do,
So it was a very slow pace.
There were no street lights, like there are today
Just the pitch black of night fog, as we went our way.

Away we will go,
like a kite in the wind.
Into the bluest of blue
in the cloudless sky.
Flit to the branch
of a new, growing tree,
catching the Sun
as it passes by.
Nothing could be more
grand, for those eyes
of mine to see,
a reflection in your eyes,
and an image of me.

The broad fields of green and gold,
with mountains high, that enfold.
the blue of lakes in your eyes,
slowly, slowly will mesmerize
my mind and it's thoughts
with over powering scent
of those Forget Me Nots.

As I grow old,
growing more bold,
saying what's on my mind.
Do you suppose that
if no one knows
or they would be unkind,
looking at me,
unexpecting to see,
a find of talent?