Camping

Learn more about other poetry terms

Camping can be a magical time for some. For others it could be a horrific time. But for me, camping is an amazing time. Nothing can even compare to  Pathfinder camping.
Surrounded by natural beauty, God’s greatest creation… In the absence of urban ruckus and cacophony… Crickets lull us to sleep, whippoorwills herald the dawn
Our church is going on a campout...   Tents with sand tracked in and river-soaked clothes tossed over sleeping bags. A trail of trampled brush  leading to a brilliant fire
Wether it is camping or fishing I'm all in. Nature for me is all the matters. Being near to mother nature and getting to know myself. I wouldn't be the same without her.
Reaching out into the darkness of night I count the flickering stars, and watch the leaves dance like flames glowing in the moon's silver light. The wind runs its cool fingers through my hair,
Dear Camp Berachah, Words cannot describe how much you’ve done for me.
Dear Morning Air, Do you remember that morning?
Before playing hide and seek We took a flash photograph in deep dusk The two of us, arms wrapped around each other Beaming as her sister snapped the shutter.   Returning to our campfire
Fiery skies over the black gloss lake turn into moonlight
I know a place of love, one that's just sublime I spend my time here daily in the summertime In this place I can be myself, not what others like I laugh and goof and smile on our many hikes
The meadow comes awake at the end of the day Lighting up the sky bright fireflies That summer breeze puts me at ease Campfire life with friends by my side Hey eh oh, oo ah Hey eh oh, oo ah
The flickering candle lit the deteriorating cabin An owl stood on a branch whooing out in the forest The author sat at his old wooden desk devising fantasies for the young ones
tonight blanketed beneath the stars I love chattering by the fires'mores burnt to a crisplaughter-filled screamsmosquitos buzzing to sleepchipped nail polishheart-to-hearts beneath a setting sun
Crisp cool nighttime air, a sleeping bag and a pillow the stars are so bright.
  Far from reality Toward God’s whispers Over distant gray mountains Beside azure lakes Far from mint grasses
The warm sun on my skin,
The night is cold and still.
you wore your underwear  under your swimsuit by accident   wet feet gathering sand running to the tent from ice water   tall over the campsite the brown mountain looms
Summer time is here and along with that brings the family out. Out on break from school and work, out enjoying what nature offers. At our family cabin hidden back in the woods of rolling hills.
Subscribe to Camping