Sunlight filters through the cracks of the tent,
And tries to reach the safety of my bag
Where I dig in more to avoid the glint,
Giving the morning the okay to lag.
The sun burns off the night but not the cold
As I can see my breath hang in the air.
Leaving the warmth of my bed would be bold,
And I will give it time before I dare.
Both the campfire and the hike can wait;
They will still be there once I have risen
Because where I find myself now is great,
And those other things I am not missing.
This is my favorite part of camping,
To start each day continuing napping.
John Collings 