I had a torteshell cat once named Misty. It wasn’t really my cat…it was my boyfriends cat. It was quite sad really because the cat had leukemia because of cat AIDS and eventually had to be put down, but I do remember being fond of this cat. My boyfriend and I had been laying in bed.
Tara
I adore all forms of water. Hurricane weather is invigorating. Humidity is my skin’s best friend and my hair drinks it (nappy works that way:) and misty is juuuussssst right on a cool morning.
i jumped through the winow, when a misty sight caught my eye. there was a stunning young blonde in front of me. when i asked her name, she replied with misty. i will never forget her, for her misty presense overwhelmed me
Logan Husain
Miss misty was a nice lady. Miss misty was a kind lady. The one they all loved. Miss misty did not yell, nor did she cry. Miss misty was the coolest, I swear it’s not a lie.
jade
The misty, cool, morning air is heavenly. I love mornings like this. If only I could just abandon the rest of the world and live in this moment.
As I watched them together, both smiling, I felt the familiar hurt of wanting something you can’t have, and had to play it off as something in my eyes when he asked why they were misty.
Kat
“I’m not crying,” she said as her little hands formed a fist, play-punching me for teasing her about getting emotional over a silly romantic movie. “I’m just naturally misty-eyed.”
Whenever it’s misty outside I always think of a horror movie, or of a scary scene. Or maybe it could be more of a mystical place in my imagination. Or is misty just a fancy word for fog? Then you think of all the kids that are wishing for a bus delay because of it. Perhaps a unicorn will appear from behind that tree over there, emerging from the mist!
Alayna Simpson
That coolness on a fall morning when you look outside and there is a light white cloud setting in over the pond. Misty. It’s cool and calming and as you walk through it you find a sweet clarity as your senses and refreshed.
Natalie Minor
I know a Misty. Have known a few in my time. Never have any of them been the same. Never have any of them been ethereal and wispy either. Misty. False advertising I say.
Michael
it was a misty day, moist and foggy and dank. she walked home, alone, the rain made patterns of resentment around her. it felt quiet but in reality it was loud. the ever-bustling city did not stop for her frustrations. her rainboots made soft splashes in the puddles on the pavement as she tried to reason with herself.
Heather
She sat down on the log while her dark hair swished with the wind, as she gazed upwards at the misty sky with her dark, large eyes. A small smile danced on her face, it was a playful smirk, “They’re coming,” she whispered, “I knew they’d come…” she mumbled to herself.
Aisha Momand
The field was misty as I wandered about, trying to find my place. A fog unlike any other, slowly growing, covering everything, including my despair. Through the mist, the moon began to shine, lighting my way, to my future destination. I knew then, because of that mist, that I would be okay. My soul awakened, all because of a mist, a fog, something that covers all, yet, somehow, awakened the light.
Mariah
Misty could be a person or it could be the state of the weather. I tend to think of a horse when the word misty comes up. A small pony on an island in a book that I read when I was a child. It was an excellent book. At least I think it was since I don’t really remember much about the story line. I also think of waterfalls. They are misty at the bottom. My favorite place to sit is at the bottom of the waterfall where I hear the roar of the water and feel the misty air current.
Aly Mecham
Sammy got misty-eyed as he looked at the picture of his wife. Snowy hair, frosted pink lips. She was posing with her hands on her hips on a small sailboat sailing on the Pacific. He handed the small framed photo to me.
“She left me,” he said, “twenty years after we married. Yet she never filed for divorce. And that, to me, is more painful than her actually untying the knot once and for all.”
Belinda Roddie
It was a misty morning in May much to the dismay of many a hater of folk songs. However, one cannot escape the weather and so as Marigold Pond wandered aimlessly down the country road, her basket at her side, she did not consider the portentous nature of the day’s environment. Life has a way of going funny on a gal when she least expects it and so it was that as she approached the young man by the side of the road she only tipped a polite greeting and made to go onward.
The lady flipped through the album slowly, tears running down her smiling face. Suddenly she stopped, her face falling as she moved a trembling hand over the picture, and said, “That’s her, Misty. That was your mother. Wasn’t she beautiful?”
The little girl leaned over to get a better view, to see the mother she would never know.
A cool mist clung to the mountains. This early morning walk, invigorates my senses, as I feel the dew from the freshly awoken grass graze my legs while I walk through the field speckled with light, dainty white flowers. I take a cool, deep breath and feel alive.
Jaqs
Misty reminds me of my childhood. I used to wake up and watch Pokemon at 6:30 am before school everyday, and Misty was the name of a main character on the show. I had such a lust for life then. I want to get that back.
Steve
The fog crept over the hills. An absent grey filled the atmosphere. Life of the surrounding high grass gave off a beautiful scent, of presence.
Viviana
I thought I saw your face, in banks of the misty night. It all seemed so clear to me when in fact everything was not what I had perceived. Where are you?
It seemed a little misty outside as she peered out the window into the yard. It had been weeks since she left her house. There was no good reason for her to step outside the front door and into her fears. She felt safe within the four walls. Her mood had not changed and the black cloud that seemed to have followed her into the new year was still hovering over her head. She could not remember the last time she smiled, laughed or even thought about either. The thought of getting lost in her darkness now over took her mind and she was not sure where to go from here.
Cris
The air was misty. It was about to down pour you could feel it in the way the air felt against your skin. thick and dense. The skies had been black and were ready to open up and let down their showers.
Liz Vos
I take the furniture outside, staring off of the balcony onto the building tops, clouded in mist. I breathe it in, grinning to myself, adrenaline shooting through me.
My vision shoots down to the roof below me, the pebbles where I know my hands and feet will crunch a second later.
I climb over the railing, waving back to the empty apartment, launching myself off of the rooftop. And the mist clouds around me…
Equals Dee
Misty is the name of my cat. My brother wanted to name her smoke, but I thought that it was a boys name. The colour of her fur looks like mist, so I believe that her name is appropriate and wonderful. She is a wonderful cat and I love her. She is my cat and no one can take that away from me.
Kelsey
Misty…my mind during the morning after the dark. The mist is the wall that blocks out all of the bad stuff, it’s comforting and warm. The mist. I wish it would stay throughout the day. The mind is not so delicate it seems.
The old woman on the bus stop had hair like a misty fog or white smoke. What burned so that the smoke became white? I pondered this as I smoked, thereby singeing the tail of her winter coat. The next time I saw here again, the singe marks were still there…
teevee
misty, wide eyed, vulnerable love. I’m open to you. crush my heart like its a tin can, or let it flourish into a rain forest of lush vegetation.
The morning air had seeped into my lungs. I was sure of it. There were electric static in all my nerves (or was it nerve endings?). I must have trembled through breakfast. The hillsides were misty and my head felt like a balloon hovering inches above my body.
teevee
The air was misty as they made their way to their destination. Everything was foggy with tiny water droplets that cooled their hot tired skin. The group quickly walked down the street with their heads down hoping not to be noticed amid the drizzle.
“Misty!” The voice echoed around the cave. She stood on a rock, looking down into the depths of the water below. Somehow, the glint of her eyes was visible through the dark. She sighed. “I can’t do this anymore.” I shook my head angrily.
“What are you talking about?! Why are you doing this?”
“Because my mom named me after a Pokemon character…”
It’s the opposite of misty today. Today the world woke up in High Definition. I swear. The sun has not shined brighter in weeks. The white sky has put on her blue dress again. The wind never left though. That cold bitch is still howling in my windows reminding me why I can’t go out and enjoy the day, even with the sun smiling to the world.
It was a misty morning when I saw her standing there. Her hair was wet from the weather and glistening in the early morning light. She looked stunning while she stood there not noticing me noticing her. Her face had a look of lovely day-dreaming about it.
Kendra
misty mornings waking from dreams
encircling memories shroud my mind…
misty nights rousing my imagination
stripping me naked of limited reality.
the fog grew heavy accross the lane where she peered longingly for him. her stomach tensed as she waited, willing him to appear out of the mist, to walk towards her and make everything ok again, just being there, knowing her.
Catherine
rainy day. dim city lights. girls name. cigarettes. dew drops. six flags misting machines. sparking rain drops.
B
rainy day. dim city lights. sparking drops in the grass. dew. cigarettes. A girl. getting cooled off on a hot day. six flags misting machines.
b
That one chick from Pokemon, She was pretty cool. I remember her red hair, ponytail and I think a green tank top.
I had a torteshell cat once named Misty. It wasn’t really my cat…it was my boyfriends cat. It was quite sad really because the cat had leukemia because of cat AIDS and eventually had to be put down, but I do remember being fond of this cat. My boyfriend and I had been laying in bed.
I adore all forms of water. Hurricane weather is invigorating. Humidity is my skin’s best friend and my hair drinks it (nappy works that way:) and misty is juuuussssst right on a cool morning.
Her eyes grew misty when she heard her voice. She hadn’t heard it in awhile. She missed it. She choked on her tears and replied, “Hello.”
i jumped through the winow, when a misty sight caught my eye. there was a stunning young blonde in front of me. when i asked her name, she replied with misty. i will never forget her, for her misty presense overwhelmed me
Miss misty was a nice lady. Miss misty was a kind lady. The one they all loved. Miss misty did not yell, nor did she cry. Miss misty was the coolest, I swear it’s not a lie.
The misty, cool, morning air is heavenly. I love mornings like this. If only I could just abandon the rest of the world and live in this moment.
As I watched them together, both smiling, I felt the familiar hurt of wanting something you can’t have, and had to play it off as something in my eyes when he asked why they were misty.
“I’m not crying,” she said as her little hands formed a fist, play-punching me for teasing her about getting emotional over a silly romantic movie. “I’m just naturally misty-eyed.”
Whenever it’s misty outside I always think of a horror movie, or of a scary scene. Or maybe it could be more of a mystical place in my imagination. Or is misty just a fancy word for fog? Then you think of all the kids that are wishing for a bus delay because of it. Perhaps a unicorn will appear from behind that tree over there, emerging from the mist!
That coolness on a fall morning when you look outside and there is a light white cloud setting in over the pond. Misty. It’s cool and calming and as you walk through it you find a sweet clarity as your senses and refreshed.
I know a Misty. Have known a few in my time. Never have any of them been the same. Never have any of them been ethereal and wispy either. Misty. False advertising I say.
it was a misty day, moist and foggy and dank. she walked home, alone, the rain made patterns of resentment around her. it felt quiet but in reality it was loud. the ever-bustling city did not stop for her frustrations. her rainboots made soft splashes in the puddles on the pavement as she tried to reason with herself.
She sat down on the log while her dark hair swished with the wind, as she gazed upwards at the misty sky with her dark, large eyes. A small smile danced on her face, it was a playful smirk, “They’re coming,” she whispered, “I knew they’d come…” she mumbled to herself.
The field was misty as I wandered about, trying to find my place. A fog unlike any other, slowly growing, covering everything, including my despair. Through the mist, the moon began to shine, lighting my way, to my future destination. I knew then, because of that mist, that I would be okay. My soul awakened, all because of a mist, a fog, something that covers all, yet, somehow, awakened the light.
Misty could be a person or it could be the state of the weather. I tend to think of a horse when the word misty comes up. A small pony on an island in a book that I read when I was a child. It was an excellent book. At least I think it was since I don’t really remember much about the story line. I also think of waterfalls. They are misty at the bottom. My favorite place to sit is at the bottom of the waterfall where I hear the roar of the water and feel the misty air current.
Sammy got misty-eyed as he looked at the picture of his wife. Snowy hair, frosted pink lips. She was posing with her hands on her hips on a small sailboat sailing on the Pacific. He handed the small framed photo to me.
“She left me,” he said, “twenty years after we married. Yet she never filed for divorce. And that, to me, is more painful than her actually untying the knot once and for all.”
It was a misty morning in May much to the dismay of many a hater of folk songs. However, one cannot escape the weather and so as Marigold Pond wandered aimlessly down the country road, her basket at her side, she did not consider the portentous nature of the day’s environment. Life has a way of going funny on a gal when she least expects it and so it was that as she approached the young man by the side of the road she only tipped a polite greeting and made to go onward.
the fog rose through the morning as the world was waking up.
The lady flipped through the album slowly, tears running down her smiling face. Suddenly she stopped, her face falling as she moved a trembling hand over the picture, and said, “That’s her, Misty. That was your mother. Wasn’t she beautiful?”
The little girl leaned over to get a better view, to see the mother she would never know.
A cool mist clung to the mountains. This early morning walk, invigorates my senses, as I feel the dew from the freshly awoken grass graze my legs while I walk through the field speckled with light, dainty white flowers. I take a cool, deep breath and feel alive.
Misty reminds me of my childhood. I used to wake up and watch Pokemon at 6:30 am before school everyday, and Misty was the name of a main character on the show. I had such a lust for life then. I want to get that back.
The fog crept over the hills. An absent grey filled the atmosphere. Life of the surrounding high grass gave off a beautiful scent, of presence.
I thought I saw your face, in banks of the misty night. It all seemed so clear to me when in fact everything was not what I had perceived. Where are you?
It seemed a little misty outside as she peered out the window into the yard. It had been weeks since she left her house. There was no good reason for her to step outside the front door and into her fears. She felt safe within the four walls. Her mood had not changed and the black cloud that seemed to have followed her into the new year was still hovering over her head. She could not remember the last time she smiled, laughed or even thought about either. The thought of getting lost in her darkness now over took her mind and she was not sure where to go from here.
The air was misty. It was about to down pour you could feel it in the way the air felt against your skin. thick and dense. The skies had been black and were ready to open up and let down their showers.
I take the furniture outside, staring off of the balcony onto the building tops, clouded in mist. I breathe it in, grinning to myself, adrenaline shooting through me.
My vision shoots down to the roof below me, the pebbles where I know my hands and feet will crunch a second later.
I climb over the railing, waving back to the empty apartment, launching myself off of the rooftop. And the mist clouds around me…
Misty is the name of my cat. My brother wanted to name her smoke, but I thought that it was a boys name. The colour of her fur looks like mist, so I believe that her name is appropriate and wonderful. She is a wonderful cat and I love her. She is my cat and no one can take that away from me.
Misty…my mind during the morning after the dark. The mist is the wall that blocks out all of the bad stuff, it’s comforting and warm. The mist. I wish it would stay throughout the day. The mind is not so delicate it seems.
The old woman on the bus stop had hair like a misty fog or white smoke. What burned so that the smoke became white? I pondered this as I smoked, thereby singeing the tail of her winter coat. The next time I saw here again, the singe marks were still there…
misty, wide eyed, vulnerable love. I’m open to you. crush my heart like its a tin can, or let it flourish into a rain forest of lush vegetation.
The morning air had seeped into my lungs. I was sure of it. There were electric static in all my nerves (or was it nerve endings?). I must have trembled through breakfast. The hillsides were misty and my head felt like a balloon hovering inches above my body.
The air was misty as they made their way to their destination. Everything was foggy with tiny water droplets that cooled their hot tired skin. The group quickly walked down the street with their heads down hoping not to be noticed amid the drizzle.
“Misty!” The voice echoed around the cave. She stood on a rock, looking down into the depths of the water below. Somehow, the glint of her eyes was visible through the dark. She sighed. “I can’t do this anymore.” I shook my head angrily.
“What are you talking about?! Why are you doing this?”
“Because my mom named me after a Pokemon character…”
It’s the opposite of misty today. Today the world woke up in High Definition. I swear. The sun has not shined brighter in weeks. The white sky has put on her blue dress again. The wind never left though. That cold bitch is still howling in my windows reminding me why I can’t go out and enjoy the day, even with the sun smiling to the world.
It was a misty morning when I saw her standing there. Her hair was wet from the weather and glistening in the early morning light. She looked stunning while she stood there not noticing me noticing her. Her face had a look of lovely day-dreaming about it.
misty mornings waking from dreams
encircling memories shroud my mind…
misty nights rousing my imagination
stripping me naked of limited reality.
the fog grew heavy accross the lane where she peered longingly for him. her stomach tensed as she waited, willing him to appear out of the mist, to walk towards her and make everything ok again, just being there, knowing her.
rainy day. dim city lights. girls name. cigarettes. dew drops. six flags misting machines. sparking rain drops.
rainy day. dim city lights. sparking drops in the grass. dew. cigarettes. A girl. getting cooled off on a hot day. six flags misting machines.
That one chick from Pokemon, She was pretty cool. I remember her red hair, ponytail and I think a green tank top.