We should find a favorite spot,
Go camping there once a year.
In between the traveling about,
From there, to there, to there to here.
Put daisies up in my tangled hair,
And I will you help with yours.
Kiss me when I stir from a night mare,
Kiss my lips and make me soar.
We may only own a single teapot,
Living in the wilderness is an odd career.
But we'll never wish to be elsewhere,
In the morning when we wake to a herd of deer.
The little pitter-patter of tiny feet
Running to daddy and mommy.
A sound that would be so sweet
Even if sentences are a bit clumsy.
April 19th 2013