Artist, actor, poet, teacher, songwriter & actor with 4,000 poems & almost 1,000 songs written, performed recorded & published on line.
Some thoughts on the beauty of camping, with a touch of humor
Come the bright morning sun through dun woods day's begun, soon its fingers of warmth melt the dew, creatures stir from the leaves, birds chirp high in the trees, while fish leap at the flies passing through, No alarm greets their day, only instinct will rouse, sleepy squirrels from the nests where they dozed, fragile deer will appear, with thier quivering ears, listening for the sharp cries of the crows. Warning them to run past all the pain that's amassed from cruel bullets or stings from men's bows, one of nature's great charms using birds for alarms, while they nibble on foliage that grows. In a stirring that's ancient, the woods comes alive, daily rituals for the less brave, all these creatures who scurry, with a whole lot less worry, from night predators sleeping in caves. It's this dance I peruse, as I peek from my tent, viewing life as it passes me by, sitting cross legged and bent near a small, screened air vent, like a most joyous voyeur I spy, yet they'll all dash unspent, from the threats I'll present when I exit and they see me rise. So I'll hold off on breakfast, my coffee can wait, as I savor what few people see, letting them gather foods, before rudeness intrudes, Cause I'm forced to go water a tree.
© 2013 Matthew Frederick Blowers III
Brenda Lorraine Scully from Ireland on March 10, 2013:
love it........... hate camping, love that you experienced it so you could write about it........ but i wont be joining anyone ...... I HATE CAMPING