The Fog

Water droplets giving life to the fog.
A swirling, motherless opaque ghost-grey mist,
slowly rolling with the sea breeze following.
Mystic, noiseless, silence pervades the open plains,
Whilst, mirage like ,it creeps relentlessly and menacingly,  towards the  arboreous sentinels  
guarding the entrance to the  forest.
Sentinals  oblivious  of the invasion approaching,
languidly droop their branches in their windless stasis.
Like a viperous enemy it begins its furtive writhing unchallenged,up the guardians woody base .
It’s spineless tentacles coiling, slowly  around the stocky  oaks.
Squirrels scrambling up the mangled, knotty tree barks
to find sanctuary within the slowly disappearing foliage.
Climbing ever higher through the mist, until reaching the treetops
they bathe in the last remnants of the watery autumn sun,
and looking down, see the sea of cloud creating a  new carpet in the forest.