A woman on Facebook says tonight.
She's ashamed she's never been camping.
So-here's-me left thinking - what..?
You've never banged in a tent peg.
Bivouacked under the stars
You've never gondolier in a sleeping bag.
Counting, astrologically,
What euphorically is mine or yours?
Oh, summer is coming pitch-up roadside.
In a layby and breathe.
Unpack your billy-cans
What else but love is there to conceive?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem