The Fog
(1963-64)

Original Work by P. Walker

The fog was like a grimy cloud
That blanketed the neighbourhood,
Enveloping in a silent shroud
The fresh green fields and leafy wood.

No welcome light to guide my way
Upon this dismal gloomy night;
Nor single beam that would betray
My path and home still out of sight.

As through the blanket night descends,
Complete black is the only sight.
To me no earthly help it lends
As I voyage through the night.