Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Camping Poetry

Napkin Stationary

Moon is just sailing in the sky
Dinner is cleared and packed away
Ride is a memory stored in tired eyes
Birds are singing their goodnight cries
Chilled is the air around my shoes
Out here no nightly news
Just gold as the sun sets behind the farm
Camping has now added its eternal charm
Lights go on in the distant town
I am grateful to lay my head down

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