Beneath the canopy of whispering pines,
Our tent stands guard against the night’s embrace.
The crackling fire paints our shadows long,
While stars above map tales of ancient grace.

The air is crisp with nature’s gentle song,
A symphony of crickets hums the tune.
The forest breathes a soft, enchanting sigh,
Wrapped in the silver glow of the rising moon.

We speak in hushed tones, secrets of the heart,
As embers dance like fireflies in the dark.
The world beyond seems distant, far away,
Here, in this moment, we ignite our spark.

As dawn approaches, painting skies of gold,
We rise with dreams that linger in the mist.
The camping night, a memory we hold,
A timeless bond that nature has kissed.