Camped out

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  • Philosophy

    Camped out

    I was the last camper not gone to rest
    Contemplating in the eerie misty fogs
    Andy the fire god had done his best
    Mike had fret on coals from pine logs

    They were all gone now, gone to rest
    It was now I alone and the fiery beast
    I stoked memories with a lack of zest
    It was shaded thoughts to say the least

    That I could not lay to final rest
    Reflected back in orange embers
    I wonder at just whose behest
    Before dawn what one remembers?

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    shellyt commented on Camped out

    06-22-2009

    this is great i have truly been in this place of remembering unrest, i had to learn to love myself enough to not punish myself any further. Great poem
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    passionsdance commented on Camped out

    06-22-2009

    I have been in a similar place. I went camping the year I found out I was preganant . I was 17 and with my parents. We own land on lake Tillery in NC. I couldnt sleep that whole night. I sat watching the burning coals . my youth flashing before my eyes. Memories of what I had done and what I should have done... faces and people... and I wept there at the memories of the dreams I had before conception. Great Job
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    cynthiakehl commented on Camped out

    06-22-2009

    great imagery ! nicely done write! thanks for sharing such vivid feelings,.....very nice flow!
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    tenderpoison commented on Camped out

    06-22-2009

    wonderful..strong imagery and flow. I also loved the last two lines...they make a strong statement about insomnia.
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    UnworthyFather commented on Camped out

    06-22-2009

    Great poem, Mr. Frost. I especially enjoyed the last two lines..."I wonder at just whose behest - Before dawn what one remembers?" I have thought words similar to that myself!! Thanks for sharing. 10
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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