Mists Be Coming

Another night, another day And mists be coming Mists! A figure so much In these years of late With the sub-conscious In as direct proportion Coming. Deep Deep The sun light buried In the dark waters Long, long ago Now silver, some silver Lights the sea-bosom: Rays To music notes transformed In to the halls of Neptune. With cones on their heads The beady Spirits rise Out of the waters. Ah! my Monsignor Another night, another day And mists be coming Mists! A figure so much In these years of late With the sub-conscious In as direct proportion Coming. Ah! my Monsignor!