A poem for Day 18 of Paul Brookes’ 30DaysWild challenge. If you have a camping related piece of writing or photo, send it in.
House-tent
This house beneath the stars sits
knees to chest upon the hillside,
gazing down where dark is deepest.
We sit and watch together,
as the stars dance and moon rises,
through the window full of night-light,
and we gaze into the tree-dark,
where the stream runs loud in springtime,
and the owls scream loud at night-time.
This house with sky as coping
is my tent, beyond is untamed,
I can hear its wild heart pulsing,
touch the bat-winged night air beating,
and I taste the summer coming.
Jane Dougherty Writes 
I was wondering what you were going to write about camping. The wild heart is pulsing. 💙
I’ve never been camping so I can only imagine what it’s like…from home.
I’ve only been camping as a Girl Scout way back when.
🙂
Reblogged this on The Wombwell Rainbow.