Looking for a place to sleep…

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This world is abundant in greenery and foliage. You would think there are endless places out in the countryside to get yourself a spot for the night; a little camping ground beyond the bushes. And there are, but they don’t always pop up just when you need them…

Looking for a place to sleep,

Where trees grow tall and insects creep,

Where people don’t walk by at night,

And bushes keep us out of sight.

It always comes when you’re in need,

But seems it might not give you peace,

Not ’til after you’ve worn feet

Will you find that sweet retreat.

 

Looking for a place to sleep,

Where farmer’s fences don’t keep sheep,

Where houses don’t pop into view,

Where there’s only me and only you.

Weary eyes look hard and far,

Straining from the point you are,

Looking, pleading with the country

To offer up something comfy.

 

Looking for a place to sleep,

To throw our luggage in a heap.

All the world seems cordoned off,

No room to spare within their lot.

Bar a few small shady patches

The land is locked with keys and latches.

Very few and far between

Are the beds beyond the green.

For a monthly newsletter of poems, songs, travel articles, etc. subscribe to my mailing list HERE

And check out my book about a year I spent cycling, wild-camping & busking around Britain HERE

 

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