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Striking Camp
by Scott M PratchnerMeadows so wild and vibrant here,
Eternal stone to grasp the sky,
The earthsong plays within our ears,
To the meadow lark's reply.
Prismatic sunset heralds night,
Apace for wood we search and toil,
Like magic now, our fire lights,
To banish cold and shadow's coil.
Transparent tendrils drift apart,
To distant stars that feel so near,
The sorcerous glow of fading sparks,
Mimic heaven, then disappear. 09/25/2001 Posted on 09/25/2001
Copyright © 2025 Scott M Pratchner
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