The camp fire burns high and
Provisions carried from home are passed about.
Laughing faces of the unyet tested,
The over morale of an Emperors finest legion
Marching into Gaulic lands
With heads held high.

Spirits are soaring and blessings are passed,
And the fluttering thoughts of home are flower painted.
Perhaps I will be back before the July sun
Bakes my armored back,
Perhaps I will be back to attend to Love
And its reaping yield
Before a burning sun alters my heart.

A game,
Thats how it began.
I never suspected
One with your face
Would come
and ask to play.

Fools,
All of us
Staring unashamed,
Me specially
As I slowed time down
To watch you
Frame by frame.

My eyes kept looking,
My hands were shaking,
"What do I say?"
My heart was yelling.
I pretended I hurt my hand -
My first instict
Was to run away.

I never told you how I felt,
And yet you knew it anyway.
I won't forget the day you came to me,
And told me you felt the same.

I purposefully walked away,
But you chased me,
You made me say
How I felt since that first day,
And now I wish
We had never met.

When I tell my testimony, it becomes a tragedy known as my "6 - month story".

Unique in its weight, age, and mental destruction.

And I'm a broken person, you know that.

But hear me now, I'm trying to say what's important.

I don't write much about God these days, but I find myself in a position where I need to say... something.

I don't blame God for what happened to me. If anything, I blame myself. And I know blaming God gets me nowhere.

But being on this camp ground for the fifth year in a row seemed different, knowing I may be older, but wisdom and experience has fallen beneath me.

The friends I knew, younger than I am, and yet they surpass me.

And I fell into sadness again.

An easy crier, I am.

But then, suddenly there was something here.

A curious voice, wondering how I came up with all these song titles, and claiming how awesome I am.

And me... being absolutely floored at how much you wanted to talk to me. Let alone... learn my songs?

Nobody has ever done that before.

Suddenly I don't feel so alone. I feel like I can sing again, like I can smile again, and this two hour session with you learning my song is the longest surge of happiness I've had in months.

And I don't want it to stop.

I feel... at home.

This old campground, and having someone to talk to.

Or hold my hand and tell me it's going to be okay...

Instantaneous connection.

I've had it before. With many other people who have left me what feels like a lifetime ago.

I fear I may get too attached, or scare you away.
That I might find a peace here in your friendship that may pull itself away before I can say "thank you"...

So..

Thank you.

If God has helped me through anything in life, He didn't never had to give me riches, or fame, or reputation.

He gave me people.

So many people.

It's been so long since anyone has been a new friend to me.

And I'm so glad that you found me. Even if it was ten years later.

Time has a way of being like that.

God being bigger than time, knowing something like this would happen.

Of all the people who could've found me at that time in my life...

I'm glad He picked you.

I know, I'm sappy and cliché, and write sentimental things too early because I'm afraid of losing good people. Mostly because I have lost so many already.

But I hope you'll stay.

I'll have that sad song written soon enough.

And you gotta be around to hear it.

I met a young woman named Megan
Who's either laughing or grinning
Whenever she's near
She spreads serious cheer
And then she gets on with the mopping.

I know a young lady named Ivy
Whose kids are constantly smiley
Her calm and good grace
Pervades the tent space
From Monday to late on a Friday

I know a great lady called Abi
Who's started an interesting hobby
As well as her teaching
Cooking and singing
She now does professional cleaning

I met a dear woman named Bev
Who won't look at a Chicken Kiev
She says she prefers
To bake flap jack squares
And fry up some great eggy bread

I met a dear woman called Debbie
Whose mood is consistently peppy
She readily hugs
All her old chums
And makes new friends in a jiffy

Now Rachel is a woman of class
All you need do is ask
She'll readily help
And if nothing else
She'll be ready to fill up your glass

I met a dear lady named Gwen
She's a perfect motherly hen
She cares on instinct
Her fashion is dis-tinct
And she scored a perfect round 10

I've met a great bloke called Mark
Who's been heard to pass a remark
That despite all attempts
To live life in a tent
It's an idea that Abi has parked.

There was a time
In which laughter
Was outrageously contagious.
She was with them,
The people who
Made her feel the happiest.

The first:
Who sat beside her;
With his long strawberry blonde
Flowing behind him
As his head rested
On her shoulder.

His laugh was gleeful,
His music taste unlike any other.
He blasted cassettes
Out of the handheld
He kept in his backpack.

The second:
Who sat across from her;
Who was beautiful,
Inside and out;
With dark hair
And glistening light eyes.

She had a beautiful voice,
No one ever tired
of hearing her singing.
Her laughter was fun;
Lighthearted, despite
Her inside struggle.

The third:
Who sat at the end,
Diagonal from her;
With longer blonde hair,
Enjoying the card game
Being played beside him.

He rested,
His eyes closed tightly.
Listening to the beat
of his tired heart,
She presumed.

The fourth:
Who sat on the left side
Of the beautiful girl;
Smiled and laughed
With the group.

He was calm,
But exuberant and enjoyable.
A warm smile spread
Across his face,
Reached his light blue eyes
That complemented his brown
Cropped hair.

It was at this moment,
Sitting alone
Weeks later
That she realized
That these were her true friends.
She missed them dearly.

There is this lamp that sits right on my desk,
layers of dust signaling lack of use,
I bought to make my space more picturesque
that's still void of light, though with one excuse.

I could replace the bulb sometime tonight
but I do not desire that false glow,
for things look better in the morning light;
what’s in the dark I do not want to know.

I don’t recall a time that lamp did work;
it gets me into bed before sundown.
It is no myth that monsters like to lurk,
they tend to use my thoughts as their playground.

It is simple why I won’t fix that lamp:
I’m tired from running monster day camp.