Around the campfire. . .

We woke bathed 
in dew and mist
under layered clouds 
penetrated 
by the crimson sky 
of a new day.

Come on my love 
put your boots on 
we will be riding 
from dawn to dust –

 In the stillness 
of the  mountain air 
the distinctive
crackle of dry wood
echoes between the trees.

As I turn to feed the fire 
sparks flicker and fly
when the morning
catch of the day
is set upon
the hot coals 
of carnal desire

 to be continued ...

FF 55

We woke bathed
in dew and mist
under layered clouds
penetrated
by the crimson sky
of a new day.

Come on my love
put your boots on
we will be riding
from dawn to dust –

The distinctive
crackle of dry wood
echoes between the trees
as I turn to feed the fire
sparks flicker and fly
when the morning
catch of the day
is set upon
the hot coals
of carnal desire

 to be continued