Beneath the ancient trees, where shadows play,
We pitched our tents and made our stay.
The whispering winds, the rustling leaves,
Spoke tales of wonder, and dreams believed.

The campfire’s glow, a beacon bright,
Against the vast and endless night.
We sang our songs, we shared our fears,
In that sacred space, we shed our tears.

The sky above, a tapestry of light,
Where stars danced with pure delight.
We traced constellations, we made our wishes,
Each one a secret, in the night’s soft kisses.

Morning’s embrace, a gentle rise,
With dew-kissed grass and golden skies.
We packed our dreams, we left no trace,
But carried the magic of that place.