Springtime At the Lake
Night falls upon the
wooded lake shore,
I hear Minerva’s child calling;
echoes through the trees
tell me that the
nightlife is awake.
Through my tent flap,
the glimmering dance
of fireflies,
fills the night wood.
Blue whispering waters
are singing to the moon;
I shiver from the frosty
tweak upon my skin;
gazing up at the starlight
that filters through
the junipers and evergreens.
I look over the ensure that the
fire is completely out,
fresh trout is always a delight
and my stomach is happy tonight.
I snuggle down into my sleeping bag,
my dog, Hillbilly-Blue, at my side;
there’s nothing quite as refreshing
and sweet as a Springtime camping trip.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2020
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