A young man was having a dreadful fright,
He was home alone at the dead of night.
He saw beasts and creatures,
Monsters with hideous features –
Until he decided to switch on the light.
Laughing along with a limerick: Night
.
.
..

Once upon a time I took a course in calligraphy. I never liked just copying clever quotes, I would rather use my own texts. I never got very good, I should have practiced more but then computers with fancy scripts became affordable and for me the skill became obsolete. But I kept a few of my favourite limericks including the odd ink stain.

In the Fog
Strange, to wander in the fog.
Each bush and stone stands alone,
No tree sees the next one,
Each is alone.
Hermann Hesse
These are the first lines of one of the most well known poems in German:
Im Nebel
Seltsam, im Nebel zu wandern!
Einsam ist jeder Busch und Stein,
Kein Baum sieht den anderen,
Jeder ist allein.
But since I started this, at least partly, I give you my very own poem limerick:
There once was a lady who liked to blog,
Who was out taking photos, stumbling through fog.
She kept shouting crossly: “Who had this idiotic idea?”
And even more loudly: “What the fog am I doing here?”
“I’d rather be home with my sweetheart and snog.”

Linked to Cosmic Photo Challenge: Misty Memories.
PS: The title of my post is an English/German wordplay. German “Mist” literally means manure in English but it is a widely used expletive when other words seem too strong.

There once was a man in McKenzie
Who suffered from terrible penis envy.
Try as he might
He could not abide
That he lacked what other guys had aplenty.