Campfire Poems

Campsite Breakfast

“Wake up, breakfast is cooking.”
Bacon in cast iron skillet,
sounds and smells, wafted through the tent.
“Coming”, the crackling bacon got me!

therapeutic campfire

crackling noises
the only sounds of the night
I stared into the oranges and yellows
a therapeutic campfire that commanded silence
my thoughts sacred

Campfire Songs: A Journey into Freedom

The dawn broke with a promise of freedom,
As we arose, our hearts afire with joy;
Oh hoo! The day we'd long anticipated is a mere few hours away,
From the confines of the camp, we'd soon break free to stay.

Nineteen days of patriotic fervour—
we'd recited with zeal,
The dedication anthem which our voices rang out,
and that which our

Summer of 74

Rainbow ribbons in her hair
Playing in the grass with no care
Making mud pies in the dirt
Skinny dipping in July no pants no shirt

Playing hide and seek football too
Finger painting pictures under sky blue
Racing the wind playing in the rain
Singing favorite songs pretending to have fame

Riding in the back of an old pickup truck
No seatbelt there

Campfire

The sounds of a campfire
Crackling through the forest
Embers glow while marshmallows cook
Small flames reach out
As if they were asking for a rescue
The flames do also do something magic
They light the black night of the forests
They create the flowing smoke
They release the flying sparks
All combined to create perfection
And a world very few get to see

© Poem

AN EMPTY FIRE PIT

In Florida oak leaves fall in March and as I was cleaning up our backyard
I paused a moment to sit…
to take a break and relax around our old and empty fire pit.

As I sat catching my breath…suddenly in my mind memories started to soar
and that fire pit, empty only a moment ago….was not empty any

Campfire Cologne

I am now "away from the noise,"  
my fruit gum I am chewing.  
Sitting here wondering what the boys,  
could be doing.  

 
 
Now all unpacked,  
a book I will read.  
Need to use bug spray before I am attacked,  
Oh no I do not want to bleed.  

 

All "satisfied and alone,"  
I thought this trip would be more fun.  
The rain has

Campfire Cologne

serene and reflective : Line 5
song bird's chirp :  Line 13

( Italian sonnet : octave with rhyme abbaabba followed by six lines with rhyme cdcdcd. )
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starlit hillside embossed in lush green peaks
campfire singes our cold hypnotic night   
in orange flames, woods crackle to ignite
cinders seeping darkness, in sizzling streaks  
serene and

Campfire Cologne

Bright fingers of crimson and gold, reaching skyward,
The flames flicker and dance as they illuminate the dark.
As we toss on another twig and some old plywood.
Now and then embers would escape with a loud spark.

Amidst the smoky scent of our cozy campfire. 
Mouthwatering infusions seem to be airborne.
Familiar sensations waft into an aromatic spire.
Can it

Campfire Cologne

beneath serene and reflective night skies
gentle feelings silence each tear, each fear,
breathing in smoldering dreams who arise
rustles of stillness, spark a soft prayer.

glowing faintly beneath the moonlit night,
flames enchanting, silencing the sad sighs,
warm odors tempt the eager appetite
along the camp’s edge, before the fire dies.

stars like glitter stand in the softest clouds,
caressing heaven with easy

Thankful For Campfire Clothing

May we be blessed to acknowledge all the wonders in our life
that have, for us, thus far accrued…
and to begin each day with a word of thanks…
and thoughts of gratitude.

Today I’m thankful for campfire clothing…
because I shall never tire
of putting on a jacket or coat
that has absorbed the aroma
and the memories of the fire.

We Love Campfires

We love to light campfires in the mountains…especially in the Fall
In the cool of the evening…our fires are warm…and cozy…
they are intimate…and small.

A campfire has the power to mesmerize…to relax us for a while…
as we sit and watch it’s colors change…we close our eyes…and smile. 

I love watching the flames leap into the air…in the

Weird Wood

Some people don’t hike through the wood,
especially on All Hallows Eve.
Ghosts of boys and girls of good
float at the campfire, if you believe.

Elves and pixies dance through the trees, 
with taunting, mocking, and leering.
They swing and sway in the brash breeze,
their faces frighteningly jeering.

What was that? The crack in the wind
unleashes demons and banshees!
Their hideous

Good Night and Sweet Dreams

I always hear the sound of guitars strumming
harmonica music and cowboys humming
when I feel a warm night breeze upon my face

Whenever I look at a summer night sky 
or hear the sound of a coyote's lonesome cry
it always takes me back to that peaceful place

Where men who did not care where they spit or cussed
with

Cowboy Life Ain'T Dead

They said the cowboy way of living
has withered away and is long gone
Least that's what I seen in the movies
and heard in all them old country songs

They tell me bout how them olden days
and the way cowboy's life used to be
Is now just faded pages in books
of folklore and revered history

So I headed out to

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